Black Rock and Roll
by Mage-Alia
Summary: Harry is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. He’s on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and the will to survive his new world. Nopairings
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 1: Searinox

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

A/N: Whhhaaaa! Not a very good story so far I think, but I had an idea and you lot, know how I am with ideas. I wrote a good lot of this before I posted the first chapter so I can work on other things later. Anywhoo… this story is set just after GoF in Harry Potter and in Warcraft III it begins just before the human Campaign starts in Reign of Chaos, so quite early in the game. Now… if you'll excuse the author, I'll just get started.

* * *

He didn't know where he was… or why he was there, only that they where chasing him down through the forests that looked foreboding and bleak even to his eyes. He didn't even understand why really. He just ran and ran.

His heart was pounding in his ears and tears where beginning to blur his vision as he tripped and went face first into the dirt once more. A battle cry rose up behind him, louder than it had been before and if it was possible his heart beats where nearly blurring together in his panic. With a faint cry passing his lips he tried to run faster. Wolves howled behind him and he shuddered and stumbled before he noticed a cave mouth ahead of him. His strength waning he all but crawled toward it and dragged himself into the shadows to one side of the entry where he couldn't easily be seen and took a moment to focus himself.

He had been in his room at Privet Drive, minding his own business when a portal opened up into the house. He had gone to see what the commotion was and found the Dursleys being bound and dragged through the portal by green skinned lumpy looking humanoid creatures in red armor. They had spoken in a guttural language and more had come to lift Vernon and Dudley when a group of them found him on the stairs. He'd grabbed his wand and begun to fight them off. One was knocked out by a stupefy nearly as soon as the fight began but the others noticed and took pains to avoid his spells. He hadn't been watching his back since the fight started and so it was a shock when another of the green skins came barreling out of Dudley's room and tackled him down the stairs. His wand flew from his hand and a grunt caught it. He snapped it over his knee and leered at him, throwing back the pieces as an even bigger humanoid threw a net over him.

After that he'd been dragged through the portal and laid out beside a pile of humans in varying states of consciousness. Including old Mrs. Figg from Magnolia Crescent. But what really confused him was why, why where the ugly green skinned humanoid creatures gathering people from Little Winging? He wiggled around in the net to see to portal again but all he saw was the raging face of his uncle, nearly purple in his rage toward him.

"_YOU BOY! WHAT FREAKYNESS IS THIS?!"_ There was an edge of hysteria in his words that rubbed off on Harry who remained silent and began to fight his bindings. He found a knot of rope digging into his back and worked his hands around to grab it, hoping to untie it, but before he had made any progress a green skin, larger than all the others, wearing dark red pants and little else came into view. There was a flag hanging from a rig attached to his back and the bead necklace looked as though it was made from cannon balls. He stopped his inspection abruptly when he came to Harry, lying alone between the restrained humans. He stared at him piercingly and Harry shuddered.

"**So you are the little mage who resisted the Blackrock Orcs."** His voice was harsh and as he spoke a group of smaller orcs, as he now knew them, scampered over**. "Your blood with be a good sacrifice to the demons."** The leader finished and Harry shuddered as long nailed hands reached for him.

After that… what happened was nearly a blur. As he was being dragged away he realized he had been in a ritual pit of sorts. The leader was speaking in the guttural language again and unsheathed a large curved blade. Peons grabbed at him and kept him still as he tried to struggle when the Orc picked up the first victim and slashed her in half with a spray of gore that ended right before his feet and doused the horrified humans in the pit. Screams rent the air and Harry's magic just reacted.

He had to get out now!

His magic had dissolved the net and a howl had gone up. Orcs grabbed for him but somehow he reached the forest and ran, the screams of the people of little Winging ringing in his ears and they were still ringing god knows how long later while he huddled in the shadows of the dark cave…

Clink, thud…. Clink, thud… 

The Orcs were moving slowly toward the mouth of the cave, taking a step then stopping to listen for danger before taking another. Their progress was painfully slow as they fanned out in a loose search formation. Harry went to shift deeper into the shadows but stopped.

Something else was in the cave with them.

The darkness deeper within seemed to come alive, writhing like a serpent and the Orcs stopped their search to stare stupidly as a large, shining, poisonous green cat slit eye opened and from out of their range of sight emerged a dragon.

"**_WHO DARES ENTER THIS PLACE?"_** Harry shivered at the power in that voice. The Orcs gave squeals of horror and tried to flee but the dragon opened his gaping maw and spat out a great emerald green fireball. It splashed like liquid along the blackened walls and floor, engulfing the entire Orc squadron. Harry desperately fought the urge to be sick as the flames broke off, revealing the bloated husks that where still standing upright. Even as he watched smaller black creatures… baby dragons, he guessed, poured out of the darkness around the ceiling and began to tear into the charred corpses.

Then the gigantic Black Dragon turned to him.

"_**WHY ARE YOU HERE, HUMAN WHELP?"

* * *

**_

Two of the younger hatchlings had landed nearby and begun to fight. With deft movements that spoke of many repetitions he reached across and easily grabbed the backs of their necks, pulling them apart and setting them on opposite sides of the rock he sat on.

"No fighting." He admonished them sternly brushing his bangs out of his eyes as he went back to sorting through a pile of armor that had once belonged to the local human soldiers. It had been a few weeks since the whole incident with the portal and Harry considered himself extremely lucky to be alive. After the dragon had killed the orcs it had turned on him, already terrified Harry did the only thing he could think of, he bowed.

* * *

Flashback.

"_**WHY ARE YOU HERE, HUMAN WHELP?" **The powerful breath of the dragon nearly knocked him over as he inched out of hiding and tried not to look at the feeding hatchlings. The black dragon was looking down at him imperiously with glowing eyes, waiting impatiently for his answer. Harry gulped, knowing one wrong move would kill him, never mind that the Dragon was talking. Thinking back to care of magical creatures he decided the best thing to do would be to treat it like a hippogriff and he straightened slightly before lowering himself into and unsteady bow. _

"_I….I… The orcs… they attacked my home." He stuttered out. "They where kidnapping people to sacrifice in some ritual… I… I escaped and… ran… here…" He began to trail off, remembering the gore and violence that outstripped any dream Voldemort could send him. He was only fourteen, nearly fifteen, but he had seen more horror than anyone twice his age would have seen in a lifetime. "I didn't… I didn't think about who might be here, sir, I just wanted to hide." The dragon looked thoughtful as a beast could and Harry kept his head down. Then after a long moment he gestured with a long tail. _

"_**FOLLOW**." And with that he led Harry deeper into the cave._

End Flashback.

* * *

Ever since Harry knew the only reason Searinox tolerated him was because he amused him. Harry lived in a small corner of the cave, relatively untouched by its draconic inhabitants; he often ended up looking after the hatchlings of the black dragon clan as they all came to accept his presence. During the days Harry would be left to his own devices while most of the dragons slept and during the night the dragons would leave to raid the nearby areas for food. The wizarding teen knew they raided farms when they came back with small things they thought he would like, clothes, trinkets, armor from the occasional soldier they ate and sometimes full Orc heads that they'd leave on the entry of his alcove.

When he wasn't bothering the humans or sleeping Searinox would summon him and make him tell stories about his life and Hogwarts. The dragon was extremely intelligent; it took interest in the unknown and how other dragons appeared in his world…

Yes, his world.

Searinox told him that the portal he emerged from was a dimensional portal, one that the orcs had tried to use to reach their demons, but that portal was long gone now. The Black Rock Orcs had no idea how to call upon a specific dimension, leaving him well and truly stranded with no hope of returning to Hogwarts or the Burrow ever again. The thought of never seeing Sirius or his friends hurt and still did, but after spending so much time with the ancient dragon clan the ache had faded.

"_Raigh!"_ A hatchling squealed loudly nearby and Harry looked up from his work to see Searinox lumbering awkwardly along the ground toward him. These dragons preferred the use of their wings to their legs. He reached the alcove and the ground nearly shook as he thudded down beside it. More of his children noticed and flew or walked over finding places along the walls.

"**_IT IS TIME TO TELL ANOTHER TALE._**" Harry couldn't help but smile at the dragon's words. Even if he could kill him Harry felt more at home here than he had anywhere else. Putting aside his work he sat up straighter and a whelp draped itself over his lap as he opened his mouth and began to recite everything he knew about the magical creatures of his world.

* * *

He was unsure of what had awakened him.

Harry sat bolt upright on his bed of dry grasses and hay stolen from the surrounding areas and looked around, nearly holding his breath as if it would help him hear better.

Shuffle…. Shuffle… 

Amid the heavy breathing of the sleeping dragons he did hear a sound that was out of place. It was the sound made when cloth muffled feet walked across stone. There was a faint clank and something gave a muffled curse, telling clearly that whatever it was, it certainly wasn't one of the dragons. To one side one of the larger fledglings snorted in its sleep and rolled over, belching a small fireball as a claw scratched its side.

If it hadn't been for the presence of the intruders Harry might have laughed at that.

Pushing aside his blanket he got up, slipping a farmers shirt over his head before venturing out into the cave, bare feet not even making a sound.

There had been a few raids by the dwarves recently. A team of hunters had moved into the area just a month ago and they had been responsible for the deaths of a few hatchlings that had escaped the cave. They where nasty little creatures who took the hides and turned it into leather amour for themselves and the humans they traded with, as well as the hearts that could be used to create fiery weapons and enchantments. Harry picked up a dagger from the row neatly lined on one side of the cave and crept toward where he'd heard the noise.

There where seven of them.

Six, he knew, where from the party of dwarves that had been hunting them, but the seventh member of the party was a newcomer, and, he was human. He stood well over the height of the dwarves, sticking out like a giraffe among a flock of blue colored sheep. Each of the dwarves held long silvery tubes that had grips of wood and a covering over the open end so nothing would get inside. The dark haired teen knew they where guns. However primitive the weaponry of this world was, they could be devastatingly effective. Taking note of the dwarves he turned his attention back to the human. He wore a mildly disgusted look that was visible no matter how well he tried to hide it. An enormous hammer with a head the length of Harry's arm hung loosely in his grip. Armour encased a body builders physique and a large golden tome hung from a long chain that slung around his neck..

Harry had to scour his mind for the description and when he finally recognized what the human was, his blood began to run cold. It was a paladin, and to have a Knight of the Light standing in a Black Dragon's Lair was never a good thing. He was forced to slink back into the shadows as the Paladin looked over in his direction. It was with a shock that he realized he'd growled out loud at the thought of them intruding upon his new home. As the blonde looked away he scanned the masses of black bodies piled together before his blue eyes fell on the largest form of Searinox. He signaled the dwarves to be ready and they went about untying the covers on their rifles. Harry knew what was going on and couldn't let it happen. He stood up and took a deep breath before he yelled as loud as he could.

"AWAKE! IT'S AN ATTACK!" The effect was immediate. The nearest whelps all jumped out of shock and in the center of the room Searinox burst out of the bone pile he slept in. He gave out a loud roar that awakened everyone else and searched out the danger, his eyes flickering to Harry before landing on the faintly glowing Paladin.

"**_FOOLISH HUMANS!_**" The great black drake roared once more. "**_YOU WILL NEVER WHIPE OUT MY CLAN!_**" The others scattered as he charged the paladin and the dwarves opened fire, the cataphony of noise reached a painful pitch as the younger whelps that didn't understand a thing of what was happening took to the air in a panic, only to find themselves falling, bullets tearing through their wings and bodies like they where paper. The roars and screams echoed harshly off the walls of the cave and for Harry it was like he was back at the orc encampment all over again, seeing the clueless residents of Little Winging being slaughtered in the sacrificial pit one by one.

He looked around, desperate to find Searinox and he spotted him closer to the entry of the cave on the ground, taking on the Paladin one on one. Harry began to fight his way over toward him, avoiding the jets of green flame that lanced out toward the shooters. Not paying attention to where he was standing he bumped into one of the riflemen and the dwarf was knocked to the ground, stunned to the point where he couldn't move to save himself as Harry gave out a sharp whistle and a few of the young dragons rushed toward the dwarf. The young wizard didn't stop to listen to the dwarves screams, instead forging on toward the entry only to find a horrible surprise awaiting him.

Out in the sunlight that he hadn't seen in weeks a line of riflemen was taking aim toward Searinox. At least three ranks deep Harry got the terrified feeling that even Searinox wouldn't get them all in time, let alone getting them himself with his dagger. He could only watch in horror as the Paladin drew Searinox into line with the cave entry and the dwarves took aim before in a swirl of his blue cloak the Paladin threw himself away. Searinox noticed the move and then the riflemen and took a deep breath to breathe fire but it was far to late.

All the fighting in the cave seemed to stop in that moment as there was a roar of a different kind. The rifles discharging sounded like an avalanche as they fired again and again. Bullets slowly but surely cracked the scales that should have withstood cannon fire and one forced its way through the flesh with a lucky hit and raced through the great lizard's body, causing lethal damage to its internal organs. Then, as Searinox collapsed the ground shook and out of his hiding place emerged the paladin. He tossed a stray lock of blonde hair out of his face and hefted his hammer high above his head. Harry heard someone shout and he was halfway toward them before he realized it had been himself. Searinox noticed and rolled his eyes over to look at him before the hammer delivered a devastating blow to the head.

Harry didn't even think about what he was doing as he dropped to his knees beside the dead dragon. Ignoring the uproar of the dwarves as they celebrated the victory and the keen's of grief from the other dragons in the lair he reached out to touched the scales, slick with cooling blood. He then found himself shaking his head, as if that would wake him, like he had only been sleeping and not dead.

But the dragon wouldn't move.

Still traumatized over everything that had happened to him since arriving in this world this seemed to be the last straw. He flowed to his feet and turned toward the paladin that had been standing nearby, watching him with a wary curiosity that turned to alarm as Harry attacked him with his bare fists. The blonde, who looked a little like Malfoy, caught his arms and held him away, instead of struggling and giving up Harry lashed out with his feet, using the leverage to walk up his chest, wildly thrusting his heel into the mans face. The paladin gave a below of pain and drew back a fist to do the only thing you could do when a distraught kid was attacking you.

Harry saw the fist coming but did nothing as it impacted with the side of his head, causing him to fall into the welcome darkness of oblivion.

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Well that's it for the first chapter. Tell me what you think of it!

Don't forget to review!

Cya


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 2: Arthas

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

Arthas was a prince.

The Crown Prince of Lorderon…

So it wasn't every day that he was attacked by villagers.

The boy they'd found in the dragon's cave was still knocked out when they returned to the encampment where Uther the Lightbringer, a fellow Paladin, was waiting along side the Dragon hunters that had requested his help in bringing down the dragon in the first place. The older Paladin, with silvery blue armor and streaks of gray in his hair looked concerned as he took in the sight he made with the boy in his arms.

"You really mean to say this boy was living with the beasts?" Uther questioned, not taking his eyes off the unconscious child. He was a mess and it had clearly been weeks since his last bath. The tracks down his face where tears had fallen where the only clean area on him. He was thin, painfully so and there was an odd lightning shaped scar on his forehead. The dragons had probably done that, and starved him in his time as a prisoner.

"Was there ever reports of children going missing from the nearby villages?" Arthas enquired. Uther shook his head.

"Many, but their bodies where all accounted for when we attacked the Blackrock Orc encampment, what was stranger though was the amount of bodies in the sacrificial pit. There where more there than what had been missing, and the way they where dressed, I don't think they where people of Lorderon, they might have come with slavers from further south." He fell silent and followed Arthas as he walked toward one of the farms that supplied food and shelter for the soldiers. He handed the boy to the women who lived there. They would clean him up, and if they where lucky, they would be able to identify him. Arthas returned to his men by the town hall and ordered them to their guard posts before dismissing the rest. They where going to break down camp and move on tomorrow morning so the men would need all the rest they could get, but even as he joined Uther on his patrol of the camp he couldn't take his mind off the boy who had attacked him, his eyes glowing the same fiery green as those of Searinox.

* * *

It was quiet when Harry came too.

There was no gentle snoring of the fledglings, no shuffles as a dragon scratched itself, no rattle as Searinox rolled over on his bed of bones.

Nothing.

There was an unfamiliar bed beneath him and the rough wooden walls would never have been found in the cave. Holding back angry tears as the memories of those last chaotic minutes in the cave Harry sat up in the bed and looked around. He was in a small room with just a door, a few shelves and the rough bed that he was lying in. His dagger was set aside on the shelf on the opposite wall beside a set of clothes that had been neatly folded, ready and waiting. His head still ached from the blow that had laid him out and the blood rushed to his head as he moved to get to his feet, forcing him into sitting back down.

Waiting until the wave of nausea had passed Harry finally stumbled across to the clothes, ignoring his state of undress until he was pulling on the simple un-dyed shirt and pants. He ignored the boots that had been placed on the floor below and as he tied the shirt laces, crossed to the window and looked out.

There was a cluster of buildings visible from the portal and Harry noticed one building off to one side of the small village that was still bustling with movement. He worked up the latch on the window and it opened out on hinges before he nimbly rolled over the frame, landing on his feet with cat like grace only to go to his knees as the landing sent a jolt of pain to his head. As he walked toward the trees a breeze ruffled his hair and he realized that someone had cleaned him up. Ignoring the implications he continued to move and eventually stopped to lean against a tree where the building was visible. What he saw there nearly made his blood boil, his grief from earlier turning into anger. The dwarves had made a chain and where passing along the hides of the dragons from the nearby caves. When he saw the huge carcass of Searinox being dragged through the dirt behind the hide and his heart it was all he could do not to just scream again.

Then the Paladin wondered into view, looking thoughtfully at the body. Harry bit his lip until it bled to keep himself from submitting to the part of his mind that whispered at him to rip him apart.

Turing away from the scene he crept around the back of the building he now recognized as a blacksmith and watched from the shadows outside the range of the forge until they began to work on cleaning Searinox's hide. The heart was placed on a small stand by the forge and a dwarf pottered around it taking crystal panels from the fire and molding them around the heart to protect it. Turning it into a molten orb of glass and flesh. The green shade of magic that pulsed around it called to him and somehow he knew a piece of Searinox was still there.

It was Ironic how he cared more for a dead dragon than the lives of a human.

Eventually the workers left the forge as the night drew on, the last remains of sunset passing well on into the west until only the moon and the stars where left, filtering through the grime covered windows of the forge. In the near pitch darkness of the room, Harry left his hiding place and crept toward the long roughly hewn table that held Searinox's hide. Silently he raised a hand and ran it down the muzzle, peering at the dark green eyes that had long since lost their fire, but even as his fingers came into contact with the scales something changed. Rapidly the skin, that had once covered the entire table, shrank. Jerking his hand back he watched as the Eyes flashed for a moment and in that second he could feel a tug, almost like he had been touching his wand. After a moment he reached forward and touched it again but this time it didn't flash, instead, he had the urge to put it on.

Moving solely on instinct he picked up the heavy skull and heaved it over his back, making it come to rest over his head before reaching behind him for the forelegs. The magic around him shifted and they came around like sleeves an opening under the claws for his hands so he could still use them. He noticed the back legs had been sown down and the tail acted like the long train of a robe. Somewhere in the back of his mind a whispering started, though it was like trying to listen to the whispered conversation from another room. The words where indistinct and Harry couldn't for the life of him, work them out but then a harsher whisper that carried the same tone as Searinox cut through the others and they all fell into silence.

Not knowing if he had imagined it he crossed the floor, passing the now empty table to where the heart had been transformed into a pulsing orb. Like the hide Harry reached out to touch it, the claws moving with his fingers to lightly scrape the crystal casing. The deep green swirls within shifted under his touch and without really thinking he lifted it from its stand. A shrill noise exploded through the air around him and Harry cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. He had seen the dwarf casting some kind of spell on it. He had been there long enough to realize that Dragon hearts, especially from one so powerful as Searinox, would probably be worth more than its weight in gold.

Holding the orb close to his chest he decided that the time for hiding was over. Moving with more grace than he knew he had he ran for the back door, only to have it fly open before he could reach it. Framed there, standing in the doorway, was an old man, with graying hair, not unlike professor Lupin's. He was in a nightshirt, looking as though he had just rolled out of bed and holding an enormous hammer in one hand.

So there where two paladins.

The man's eyes widened at the sight of him, wrapped in the hide.

"What are you doing boy?" Harry, who had skidded to a stop, flinched at the name. Searinox had always just called him _whelp_, everyone who'd ever hurt him called him _boy_. Even so, the dark haired boy didn't answer, he just held up a free hand and magic shot through the charged scales, nearly bursting from the tips of the claws before he'd even yelled out the spell.

"_Expeliarmus_!" The hammer was thrown out of the paladin's hands as he was hurled out of the doorway and into one of the trees that lined the clearing. Confused shouts echoed and there was a bang from the front of the blacksmith's workshop. Harry half turned to see the hulking frame of the first Paladin blocking the doorway. He too was stunned to see him.

"What…?" Harry repeated his spell and the aristocratic blonde was thrown into the wall beside the door he had just entered. Harry didn't wait for anymore to come, he took off out the back door and as he passed, the gray haired man stared back at him wide eyed.

"What are you?" He gasped out Harry began to scowl, for a split second he felt the haze of nothing that had been covering his senses lift, but he threw himself back into the void so he wouldn't have to feel. Without a word he turned away from him and plunged into the woods beyond. Having not recovered from the surprise Uther just sat there. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened or what the boy was, but in that split second he had looked into the green eyes and seen a tortured soul. One that had seen the worst of the world laid bare before him and too little of the good.

The old knight felt his heart going out to him as the young prince and a few others found him. Arthas handed him his hammer after he'd found his way to his feet, commenting that he must be getting old to let the boy get away, Uther was laughing at him a moment later when the captain of the squad Arthas had under his command pointed out that the boy had gotten the best of him too. Still, as they made their way toward the frantic Dwarves to report the theft, Uther's eyes strayed to the forest borders and he sent up a silent prayer to whatever god was listening to keep an eye on the teen.

Someone so young should never have those eyes.

* * *

Harry could feel that something was wrong.

The earth was tainted black and the sky was shadowed by great storm clouds that refused to shift however harshly the icy wind blew. He had been wondering through the wilderness for a few days before he emerged into civilization once more. A small farming village sat on the outer edges of a large town that stood on the opposite side of the river. The people eyed him warily as he slinked into their midst and looked around. He guessed that the hide he wore seemed more than a little intimidating. Still debating whether or not to ask for shelter for the night he found himself staring at a bridge. It was broken and burnt, with what little that remained damaged beyond repair. Harry tipped his head to one side in confusion before asking out of the blue.

"What happened?" The villager that had been trying to quietly hide in the bushes to watch him jumped violently at being addressed so directly.

"W…Wh…I…It b…burnt down." He stuttered out quickly. Harry didn't take his eyes off the bridge.

"Why was it burnt?" He asked and the other teen, who had been backing away, stopped.

"It…it was to s...stop the plague, P…Prince Arthas went across the river yesterday by the old f…ford and didn't…c…come back." Harry ignored him as he abruptly turned and ran back toward the village and Harry decided to rest anyway. Sitting down on the dirt path he crossed his legs and began to think about what he knew of this world. Something he really hadn't had the chance to do since he'd run with the black Dragon's hide and heart.

Searinox had told him that these lands where called Lorderon. A human province with lots of tasty farmers and the occasional Elf that came from the north, a place called Quel'thalas, though, the elves didn't taste half as good as the farmers apparently, far to stringy. He wasn't quite sure where he was other than that, but he did know that the capital was further to the north. Dragon's, however old, didn't always find an interest in knowing all the countries.

The shuffle of scared people came from behind and he looked over his shoulder. The now empty eye sockets where aligned so he could see them standing a few feet away, looking drawn and frightened with a few even carrying makeshift weapons. They'd seen hard times recently, that much was obvious. When they didn't speak up Harry decided to take the initiative and did it for them.

"Where's the Ford?" A few of them jumped before peering closely at the few visible parts of his face. They where surprised, mostly by how young he seemed. There was more silence before one man stepped forward and coughed awkwardly.

"Uh… milord…?" Nervous and intimidated by his strange cloak the man twisted his hands before him. "Are you a mage?" He jumped back as Harry rose slowly to his feet and nodded, not quite sure if he qualified as a 'Mage' or not. It might just be the word for 'Wizard' around here. The man looked a little more relaxed at that. They probably recognized a mage as someone they could trust.

Such simple-minded fools.

"…We'll show you where the old ford is." He said abruptly, obviously not wanting trouble. The peasant bowed awkwardly before beckoning him along the riverbank to the right of the bridge. "This way." Harry followed them, only a pace behind the leader.

"This plague… what do you know of it?" He asked slowly, and in a low voice. He honestly didn't want to frighten them, they where doing a good enough job of scaring themselves. The man looked alarmed at first but obviously forced himself to relax.

"We don't know much, milord. We're only simple folk, but there are these… monsters." Harry couldn't help his reaction as his head whipped around and he eyed the man.

"Monsters?" He questioned sharply and the villager flinched.

"Yes, Lord, they appear in the villages that the plague has taken, 'is why we burned the bridge." Harry stared at him for a moment longer before they reached the river. Looking out he could see the shallow waters and the raised path that wound through them.

"This is it milord." The villager bowed awkwardly and Harry nodded his thanks before fleeing. He ran through the water, the black leathery tail preventing the sound of footsteps splashing as he charged through the ruins of an old bandit camp. It was only another minute or so before he was in the remains of a village that looked as though it had half burned to the ground, just like the bridge. Footsteps slowed and stopped as he observed the scene with no little amount of queasiness bringing up a hand in an attempt to block out the stench of decaying flesh, they'd all been dead for a very long time.

"Did the plague do this?" He moved closer and examined on corpse that was lying in the street. It was bloated and dead, but in spite of the spreading bugs and other methods of decay he could see long gashes where the skin had been cut open by a blade… most likely a sword. Even stranger, was the odd lack of blood. It was lumpy and congealed around the inside of the wound, but none had leaked from the body.

Someone had cut them up after they'd died and left them there.

Nose crumpling in disgust under his hands Harry moved on. He didn't need to be a tracker to notice the trail of the killers as they moved along. Gore was spread around on the path, and had been flattened under heavy boots that moved in columns suggesting soldiers as the culprits. The green-eyed boy thought back and remembered what the villager had said while he was leading him to the ford. Someone, known as Arthas had been through here far more recently and it brought Harry to wonder if he had been responsible for the mess.

He followed the trail through two more smaller settlements before he encountered a larger town. It was completely deserted and the dark haired wizard had to resist the urge to gag as something more than just the smell pressed down on him. Pulling the hide closer, as if it could block out the sickly, evil feeling he'd so far only felt in the presence of Voldemort and those Orcs. Trying to move on as quickly as possible he didn't notice the small form that darted for him until it was attached to his legs, holding him in an iron grip and making small whimpering sounds. Gasping in shock Harry looked down and found himself looking into a pair of golden glowing eyes.

"H…hel...help…me…!" It groaned, as if it had forgotten how to speak and only just remembered again. The creature was only about the size of a small child and its face was sickly and devoid of any flesh. Tufts of brown hair stuck stubbornly to the scalp, barely hanging on with the remains of dried blood and gore. Clothes hung off its wasted form and in some places the joints where exposed where any skin or muscle had been torn away, but what caught Harry's attention the most, was a small thread bare teddy bear hanging from the crook of the creature's arm. He stared at it, uncomprehending until it dawned on him what this thing must be. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the stench of death he carefully knelt down to face it.

"Did you catch the plague?" He asked slowly. The boy, as Harry now recognized him as, nodded franticly, his jaw bouncing open and closed, as his face muscles seemed so close to giving way. The misplaced wizard felt his face falling even as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Was this the effect of the mystery plague? It wasted people away until they look like monsters or did they really become one?

"Listen, where are the others?" Harry asked and the little boy shook his head.

"They're… all… gone!" He piped up, sounding better than before but still rather unsure of his words. "They…g…g…got sick, they… turned…" He began slowly. "I…into… monst..ers…" Harry felt a sudden thrill of dread and threw himself out of the way just in time as the boy gave out a guttural howl and lunged for him. Dropping the teddy bear he skittered on bony limbs and turned back for him. Harry got to his feet and ran, weaving through the wreckage of the village and jumping over obstacles, but the now zombified boy was fast and came up behind him not having needed to breathe. Without really thinking about what he was doing Harry let instinct take over as adrenaline flooded his system and he stopped abruptly, spinning around to meet the undead child with his claws instead.

He leapt at him and Harry snapped his hand up, the magic running down his arms like before and nearly bursting from the claw before he could focus it into a banishing spell. It caught the zombie in mid air and sent him flying back into a wall where most of its bones shattered, but it was still alive and Harry followed up his first spell with a hastily cast '**_Incendio_**.' It went down screaming and eventually the oddly green flames died down, having eaten all the magic that kept the poor child alive.

Harry backed away a few paces and felt his legs go out from under him, sending him to the ashen ground. Now he understood what it was he had seen on his way here. The plague was something magical. It killed people and then brought them back to life as monsters that attacked anyone who hadn't been infected previously. Seeking out the trail of the soldiers he followed it visually to a large ruined building that hadn't been burned like the rest. Getting shakily to his feet Harry moved toward it, noting the enormous bloated bodies of what must have been villagers at some point, lying on the ground nearby.

"This is sick." He muttered to himself as he kicked a board out of the way and a few leftover husks of grain spilled out into the ground. Recognizing them from a picture he'd seen in primary school when he'd learned about the food groups, he knew something was wrong with it. "The plague was spread with the grain?" He nudged the board back and looked around before his gaze settled on the tracks.

"Maybe they'll help."

With that in mind Harry began the trek after the soldiers, simply ignoring the devastation that surrounded him.

He was too tired to care anymore.

* * *

A/N: Okkie dokie! That's it for the second chapter!

Heh, Harry's worn out and he's practically running on empty where sanity is concerned. He kind of seems a little out of character doesn't he, well, you'd be a little off if you had to put up with all the shock he did and Just so you know, he doesn't connect, 'Prince Arthas' with the blonde Paladin who killed Searinox yet.

Anyway…

Parts of this chapter may need a little fixing and I'll apologize for those, but I've been working hard on one of my side projects. I've actually started writing a book, for real, and I've been having idea after idea. My walls have been plastered with doodles of the characters and my laptop is taking a beating from all the typing I'm doing. So bare with me for now will you?

Don't forget to review!

Cya


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 3: Hearthglen

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

Jaina Proudmore pondered over the words of the mysterious mage that had come to the magical center of Dalaran to warn her master Antonidas, of a great looming threat over the land. As an agent for the Kirin Tor she had been trained to see beneath the words and actions of the people she spied on and what surprised her was that the mage had been completely and utterly convinced that his path was the right course of action against the threat no one had even whispered about. Her master hadn't believed him, and even if he had, he was far to stubborn willed to leave the city and her secrets undefended. He had ordered her not to pursue the instructions of the mage but she couldn't help the faint protests that sprang from her sub-conscious.

What if the actions the Mage described where the right course of action after all?

"You can come out now Jaina." Antonidas looked right at her hiding place in the shadows of one of the great statues placed in the great Violet Gardens.

"Ah, master, forgive my eavesdropping but…" She had been about to mention the man's utter belief when Antonidas cut her off.

"Ah Jaina, I believe it is part of your inquisitive nature… Something I have often come to rely on." She flushed at the praise and opened her mouth again before the elder waved his staff. Jaina, the mage and his horse where all teleported to a balcony above the training grounds. A few priests lingered around the railings, watching two student Sorcerers duking it out in the practice arena.

"As you might already know." The older mage began. "There have been rumors of a plague to the north." Jaina looked at him sharply, recognizing the official tone of voice.

"Yes, I've heard of it, it is said the Plague might be magical in nature." Antonidas nodded gravely.

"It is for that reason I am sending you on a mission to discover the cause of the plague. I have already arranged for you to be escorted north by a special envoy." Jaina watched his darkening expression and thought better about enquiring about the crazy mage. She could tell that some of what he had said had managed to take hold of her master's mind. For all his surly bluster, he really did care for the inhabitance of Lorderon. Jaina sighed mentally and gave a short bow to the Archmage.

"I'll be leaving right away, master." With that, she activated the return transportation spell and took herself back to the Violet Garden, ignoring the sudden uproar around them as one of the sparing sorcerers turned their opponent into a sheep and flounced off the field in a huff.

She had to pack some things first.

* * *

The tracks of the soldiers and 'Arthas' had lead him through at least two more towns before he managed to catch up with them. Everywhere he'd looked, there was evidence of death and destruction. In one large town what looked to be all the grain harvested for a year had been piled up in the center of the village green and set alight along with five other store houses around the area. The people that had managed to avoid detection of the army where wondering around in a daze, all looking as gruesomely horrific as the first little boy he'd been forced to kill.

Being a wizard, and having learned subconsciously what different types of magic felt like he knew this monster making sickness was a product of the deepest dark arts, fascinating and terrifying, all at the same time.

Occasionally, one or two of the sick villagers he passed weren't so far gone as the others. They either watched him from the darkness of their ruined homes or lunged at him, begging for death before they too succumbed to the urges to kill, maim and cannibalize. Harry had been somewhat disconnected as he sent a cutting curse through their spinal cord and set them alight.

Now, he was seated in the trees surrounding a town.

The high conifer gave him camouflage while its towering height afforded him a view of the surrounding area. Houses where lined neatly inside a low unfortified stone wall. There where a few manned guard towers set at the breaks in the walls, and a small squad of the regional guards practicing with weapons in a cobbled courtyard beside the forge but other than them, there was little else. Nearly slithering across the branches, he moved to a place where he could see the gate closest to the direction he'd come from. Traveling in the night he'd accidentally overtaken the very soldiers he'd been following but as they limped into town Harry felt his blood run cold.

Walking at the head of the columns of exhausted men was a familiar aristocratic blonde.

In an instant the whispers in the back of his mind turned to inarticulate roars and shrieks of outrage. _This_ was _'Prince Arthas'_? He watched as he and a woman wearing a deep purple cloak patterned with stars and moons that reminded him of a set of Dumbledore's robes, approached the captain of the local guard and moved down the tree toward the shadows of the wall where he could listen to what they where saying. It was difficult to hear at first, with the cataphony in his mind, but soon enough, the snarl that had previously silenced them returned and the voices of the three became audible.

"… and last night there was a sudden increase in the numbers of the undead. They began to band together and started to attack most of the other villages in the area. We don't know if the other villages survived and weave been completely cut off, but were prepared for the worst." The captain waved to the scattering of men still doing drills. Arthas wore a horrified sort of look as he turned toward the cloaked woman.

"Jaina! I need you to find Uther!" Jaina looked at him incredulously.

"Even if I did make it to him there's no way that he'd get here in time to save the village!" Arthas leaned forward to look under the shadows of her hood.

"I'll hold the men here as long as I can, just hurry and bring back help." Jaina gave him a 'look' before spinning on her heel and running out the gate. Harry pressed himself to the wall as she passed and watched with mild interest as the air around her filled with symbols. They glowed brighter as they began to take effect and she looked back over her shoulder toward the village when something caught her eye. There, huddled in the shadow of the wall was a dragon… no… not a dragon, someone wearing its _skin_. Under the dark glassy eyes she could see sparks of brilliant green that glinted faintly as they watched her.

She opened her mouth to call to him but by then the teleportation spell was complete and she was spun away toward Uther's destination. As the spell spat her out at the entry to a large tent it struck her that this was the second time she'd seen someone dressed as a beast in as many weeks and concern began to worm its way into her heart. Maybe Uther would listen to her instead…

* * *

Harry watched the mage leave before he returned his attention to the Murderer. The blonde Paladin had wondered over to a pile of opened crates by a grain storage bin and his eyes widened in shock. He beckoned over the Captain and asked what had been in the boxes.

"Nothing important milord." The soldier assured him. "It was just the grain shipment, its already been distributed to the villagers.

Arthas went as white as a ghost.

"Oh no." He turned around yelling at the soldiers to defend themselves as the sick villagers made themselves apparent, their forms wasting away before their eyes, almost as if they'd been fed a new and better plague that worked at twice the rate. They lunged mindlessly for fresh meat and those not in amour ran for cover as the soldiers stepped forward. Harry felt a vindictive sort of pleasure at the look of horrified pain on the paladins face before the blonde joined the battle, his powerful healing spells doing more damage than an iron blade.

He remained in his place by the wall, protected by shadows and trees. In an almost childish gesture he dragged the tail of the hide from under him and draped it across his arms, holding it to his chest. Dragons were far from the cleanest creatures on the planet and the last time he'd had anything close to a bath was crossing the river nearly three weeks ago. He idly began to pick dirt from between the scales and plain ignored the battle behind him until a panicked villager ran through the unprotected gate perused by a single bent undead corpse. The woman ran right at him in her efforts to escape and didn't even realize he was there until she'd tripped right over him. She gave a startled shriek and tried to scramble away as he stood, dropping his tail and giving the Undead a blank look, right before the he sent it up in flames. The woman, still sobbing in horror leapt at him, almost sticking to his side once her mind had classified him as safety.

Harry stared down at her head, face still blank.

He loved the thought of the paladin suffering for murdering his… family, but these villagers really didn't deserve the fate they had been dealt.

And if there was one thing he knew better than anything, it was that fate was a bitch.

Sighing he muttered a stunning spell and the woman fell limp. Picking her up he slung an arm over his shoulder and dragged her back toward the gate. Peeking around the corner confirmed the Paladin wasn't there and he strode toward the nearest surviving villager, dumping her at his feet Harry ignored the resulting shout and vanished off into the shadows again. He found his prey on the other side of the village by another gate organizing the available defenses.

"Hold your ground!" He was yelling motivation. "We are the chosen of the light and we shall not fall!" The men cheered for him but Harry just felt the urge to gag. Wondering why he'd ever listened to that sort of thing before. After witnessing so much death, the light and those who fought for it where the last people he would believe, at least the darkness didn't lie to itself and everyone else for the sake of propaganda. Green eyes glanced speculatively at the soldiers and wondered how they where ever going to fight off the undead until the reinforcements arrived. They looked half dead themselves.

Harry shook his head pityingly and moved back from the gate finding a point further down the wall where he could climb atop it and from there move out into the trees ahead of the defending soldiers. From his new perch he could see the entry to the road that lead into the village from the west. He'd stay here as a watchman for the villagers, but for them only.

Arthas, could still go to hell for all he cared.

* * *

The day was passing slowly for the defenders as the attacks from Undead raiding parties eventually became more frequent. Strangely enough, they came in groups of much smaller numbers than they'd been expecting. They'd had it easy up until now.TPTWEEEEEEET 

A shrill whistle echoed from up the trail and the soldiers hauled themselves back to their feet, grumbling slightly as they pushed the non-combatants back behind the walls and stood at the ready. They'd discovered earlier on that the whistle signified a fresh wave of the Undead and thus, they where always ready when a new lot came around the bend.

"GRRRRRAAAA!" A few of the men cringed in disgust as a few Ghouls lumbered ahead of an enormous bloated Abomination. This was going to be one of the harder fights.

"Should have been a farmer like my mother wanted me to be, but nooo, I had to be a soldier…" The Captain of the towns guard grumbled to himself as he gripped his blade and a dwarf gunner snickered tipsily before offering him a flask of some noxious alcoholic substance he'd been drinking since long before the first attack. The Captain snatched it and took a few gulps, more than grateful that if he survived this, he wasn't going to remember a damn thing.

No wonder the Dwarves where such a happy bunch.

"Alright men! CHARGE!" Clanking amour clad men rushed forward to take care of the problem. Ghouls fell easily, the vital areas to their continued function not covered in any sort of amour, but the Abomination wasn't so easy. It swung one of its giant weapons and hooked a soldier, unfortunate enough to be within striking distance of the enormous meat hook. His scream was cut off prematurely as his neck broke but in the few seconds the creature was shaking the corpse loose they had a chance to strike and one of the men, still healthy enough to move at top speed in their amour darted in, dragging his sword across the stitches that where precariously holding in the Undead thing's guts.

It gave a wounded bellow as hot stinking intestines splattered across the cobblestones beneath their feet and it lashed out with the meat cleaver in it's other hand, sending another poor soldier flying.

"Whoa!" Arthas yelled in surprise when he was nearly bowled over by a flying soldier and took a moment to help him to his feet before he dashed in and brought down his glowing hammer head across the Undead Abomination's back. It gave another bellow and more of its mash of internal organs slid out of the gaping hole in its stitches before it fell forward, dying… for real this time.

The men still standing paused and listened for a long moment before they fell around against the sides of the road in relief. Arthas stared at them.

"What's going on here?" The blonde peered from one tired face to another as the few priests they had at their disposal reemerging from the gate. The captain rolled his eyes up to look at him from where he'd collapsed and sighed mentally before answering the prince, still wondering why he hadn't been a farmer.

"My Leige, when we hear the whistle we'll have to fight again, but until then we have a chance to recover." He might have sounded like he was being smart with the royal but the captains strength was flagging and he didn't particularly care right then. Arthas stared at the men before looking back in the direction of the other gate that lay further north of them. He'd been there fighting tooth and nail with the others just to keep the watchtowers from being destroyed and here was the other half of his forces lazing around like they where playing with bandits instead of fighting a desperate battle against the undead.

"Captain, I'm here because scouts reported seeing Necromancers and an Abomination enroute to this gate." The soldier looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ain't been no mages down here, sire." He said shortly. "Just them." He gestured to the corpses of the abomination and the ghouls that where rapidly decomposing now that there was no magic that could sustain them.

Arthas frowned.

"That's strange…" He trailed off and gestured to a Soldier that had followed him from the other gate before leading the way down the road. Rounding the trees the loose cobblestones gave way to a natural thoroughfare that had been worn down recently by the undead passing through. Directly ahead on them was a swampy lake and further to the north the trees curved back toward Hearthglen.

Leaving the soldier as a look out he examined the mess of tracks on the ground. Arthas wasn't a proficient tracker, but it wasn't a skill he needed as he found fragments of the gaudy orange and purple robe that Necromancers where fond of. Examining the area he found the remains of quite a few different Undead creatures and couldn't help but wonder what was destroying them.

"Sir!" Arthas turned sharply to look at the soldier and found him pointing up into the trees with his blade. The blonde followed his gaze and noticed something dark slithering through the branches. Without a thought to what it might be he plunged into the tightly packed trees, slapping away the branches that whipped him across the face. A flurry of activity above told him he'd been seen and the black form sped back toward the direction of the village wall. Arthas let loose a blistering curse and backed out the way he'd come before he heard the rattle of moving bones.

"Your Highness! Hurry!" The soldier he'd left was on the brink of panicking and beyond him was a group of the Undead moving right for them! Arthas took one look at them before he gestured to the Soldier and belted off back toward the gate. The lazing defenders jumped up when they saw him and gripped weapons nervously when the saw the pursuing undead.

Where was their warning?

Seeing they where ready Arthas left the soldiers to fight and ran back into the village before he noticed more movement from the corner of his eye. He followed the black creature as it left behind all thoughts of hiding and ran in clear view of the people. Villagers jumped away in shock as it weaved between them and practically fled when Arthas came barreling after it. It lead the blonde on a wild chase before it bolted through the lightly guarded gate opposite the one it had been watching. Startled shouts went up from the guards as he ran out into the forest, close behind, leaving the village to defend itself.

* * *

Harry cursed as he found the paladin was still following.

He'd taken up the watch as his contribution to keeping the remaining villagers alive, and every time one of the despicable magic users had passed him he'd picked them up, leaving the melee type's like the fat abominations and the hunched skeletons to the guards. He would have gladly stayed there too, but then the blonde had shown up and his first instinct had been to flee.

So he did.

Now he was running down the unpaved forest roads, cursing prince Arthas with every step. He didn't want to have to deal with him now but if he had to keep running any longer he'd eventually be caught. He'd used a lot of magic while playing sniper from the trees. He skidded to a halt when he realized that he'd reached another village.

It was eerily quiet.

Taking a few heaving breaths he looked around, trying to find a good hiding spot before the bloody prince caught up.

_**Clank**_

To late.

"HEY! YOU THERE!" Harry half turned, sparks forming around his claws as he instinctively drew out his magic. Arthas took a step back in surprise when he saw the bright green eyes glaring out at him underneath the familiar hide he only just recignised.

"You!" The blonde took a few steps toward him, only to stop when Harry backed away, hissing slightly.

"Don't come near me Murderer!" He held up a claw defensively and Arthas flinched back.

"Why did you run away?" He asked lowering his hammer and looking at him sadly. "We where only trying to help you." Harry scowled magnificently.

"You didn't help me! You killed them! Even the whelps! They did nothing to me, or you, but you hunted them down anyway!" Arthas felt his mouth go slack in shock.

"You… you liked them?" He asked, not really comprehending what the boy was saying. "But, those dragons had been raiding the area for months. They killed villagers and ruined crops, they needed to be destroyed before they could hurt anyone else." Harry let his arms drop, fists clenching convulsively as he fought against the overwhelming rage that threatened to overtake him and the voices in his mind that where screaming for blood.

"They… saved… me." He ground out slowly, his whole body beginning to shake. "The orcs killed them, killed everyone, even my family." He spat out the last word like a curse. "Searinox took me in, he killed orcs to save me AND YOU KILLED HIM!" His eyes met those of the blonde and with a speed he'd never thought possible flung up a clawed arm, a bight green fireball forming without any words. Before Arthas could blink it was barreling through the air toward him and he only just managed to get out of the way before it hit, but not before it singed his hair. He rolled, bringing his hammer to bear as spell after spell was hurled his way each one getting harder to dodge.

Getting sick of staying on the defensive Arthas dipped into his precious mana reserves and cast a spell of his own.

"_Divine Sheild!"_ A golden orb of light rose up around him and he stopped running, the green fireballs splashing across it and going out. There was a growl from the distraught child and he knew he didn't have much time. He dashed forward and lashed out with his weapon. The mighty hammer swung through the air, heading right for the boy's face, but in spite of his speed the boy was faster. He became nothing more than a black blur as he ducked out of the way, scrambling backwards before leaping back for him, claws leading the way. Arthas met the attack head on, but he hadn't anticipated the strength of the dragon's claws.

His armor had been made for him as a gift from the dwarven king on his twentieth birthday. It had consisted of some of the finest metals and alloys all chosen for their resistance against any sort of weapon, but now the gauntlet on his arm fell apart before his eyes as the claws pierced them, marking the flesh beneath.

The hide clad boy backed off and growled again but as he scanned the area he noted something else emerging from the woods…

"Shit!" Harry swore as he abruptly regained his sanity, having it snap back into place as he saw the undead approaching in formation around a caravan of barbaric meat wagons. Their eyes glowed with cruel intelligence that was different from the mindless swarms that had been attacking the village in the first place, these where the cause of the problem, he could be certain of it. He looked toward the place the paladin had been standing, only to find the pieces of the broken gauntlet as the only reminder that he'd even been there. Harry looked up and glanced to the trail he'd followed here in time to see the blonde legging it in the other direction.

"Coward!" Harry hissed, truly disgusted that the prince had chosen to run and fight the symptom instead of staying to fight the cause. He turned back and eyed the Necromancer that had stepped away from the rest of the convoy. The dark haired boy repressed the urge to gag at the purely offensive dark stench of magic he gave off and settled on glaring as vehemently as he could through the eyes of Searinox's skull. The necromancer eyed him back.

"Ah, a fellow practitioner of the black arts." The thing said, nodding approvingly at the hide draped around him. Harry sneered at him in return.

"I'm no practitioner, you reeking necrophiliac." He intended it for an insult, but the Necromancer just chuckled, showing absolutely no shame. He waved it off and moved to circle him.

"So then, what should I call you?" He wondered. "You have a powerful talisman there, your presence would be welcome in the ranks of the undead. You could be great, you know." Harry froze up when he heard that. They where the same words wizards had said to him, over and over from the moment he'd laid foot in the wizarding world.

"HAH! Greatness has nothing to do with it." With that he lunged for the necromancer, fully intending to rip off his head, but before he could reach him two skeletons sprung up from the ground to intercept him. The lumbering abominations and grunts walking alongside the caravan all moved forward to swarm him.

"Brothers! We must not loose the shipment or the Master will have our hides." A shout echoed eerily from the side of the convoy just as Harry's first spell ripped through the skeletons and burned the necromancer's bright orange robes. For a single triumphant moment his growing sadistic streak was treated to the sight of the old undead mage hopping around in an attempt to put it out before the first of the grunts reached him. He'd already thrown them off by the time he recognized the feel of his magic slipping away. He'd been fighting from the trees for hours before his outburst toward Arthas. Looking at how many more there where to fight Harry reacted on instinct and instinct chose flight.

So turning tail he ran from the village via the opposite end from which he'd entered and into the wilderness once more.

* * *

A/N: Ah… stopping here for now.

So in this chapter we meet another major character. Jaina has a lot more to do with the story after this and Arthas should be passing out of it in the next chapter or so… so sorry to anyone who actually liked him…As for Harry, I might as well make it clear now that he's on the brink of going absolutely nuts. He's so overstressed by the events that his insanity began to manifest itself as a mild avenger streak.

Oh, and someone was wondering if Searinox transferred some sort of memory in the first chapter when he met Harry's eyes just before his death. He didn't actually do anything, everything Harry hears or feels now is pretty much a direct result of his own psychosis affecting his magic.

Don't forget to review!

Cya

P.S. As to some of the other stories… I'm sorry it's taking so long to update but I've just started working again so most of the time I would spend Writing is now used for other things. I'll work on them in dribs and drabs but since when have people actually expected regular updates from me?


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 4: The Prophet, the Prince and a Dragon

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

Fires that had engulfed the nearby buildings of the Village where now just smoldering in piles of blackened wood and the once numerous defenders had dwindled down to a few that stood protectively around him, facing down the hordes of the undead that had them completely surrounded around their last stronghold, a single pathetically weak farmhouse.

They had lost.

Spectacularly.

"Light, give me strength!" Arthas breathed out the blessing as he took another swing at a ghoul that managed to break the defensive line. It let out a dying gurgle before the light went out of its eyes. He was completely exhausted. Going after the boy they'd found with the dragons had been a mistake from the beginning. The moment he'd left the village he'd doomed the people there, as well as stolen an effective lookout. Now he couldn't so much as look any of the survivors in the eye without feeling the weight of his guilt. He'd screwed up. Arthas was all to ready to give up in order to make amends when he heard it. There was a distant pounding of the earth and the blonde almost fainted in relief when he heard Uther's booming voice echo over the sound of fighting.

"FOR LORDERON! FOR THE KING!" The growls of the undead became screams as the wave of knights and soldiers hit their ranks and brutally set about slaughtering every single one of them. Then as Uther himself came into view Arthas felt a little more of his strength returning. Raising his hammer he cast a healing spell on one of the few leftover defenders.

"Uther, your timing couldn't have been better." He knew he was grinning foolishly but he was to relieved to care. Uther strode through the fighting, flanked by Jaina, the look on his face grave as he surveyed the ruins.

"Don't celebrate yet, son. This battle's far from over!" He was right, of course, and Arthas turned around to lunge at another grunt, his hope renewed.

They where huddled just off to the side of the town square as the reinforcements went around, salvaging what they could and giving the mercy stroke to those that wouldn't survive until help came. The graying Paladin stared around at the carnage and repressed the urge to sigh.

"I'm surprised that you kept things together as long as you did, lad. If I hadn't arrived just then…" He had unknowingly found the very subject Arthas had been trying to forget. The blonde cringed slightly before scowling at his superior.

"Look, I did the best I could, Uther! If I'd had a legion of knights riding at my back, I would've—" Uther cut in with a waving hand and a sharp look.

"Now is not the time to be choking on pride!" The elder man scolded him and Arthas looked down as his feet in shame, something he hadn't done since his nursemaid had told him off for running away from her when he was ten. "What we faced here was only the beginning. The undead ranks are bolstered every time one of our warriors falls in battle."

"Then we should strike at their leader! I'll go to Stratholme and kill Mal'Ganis myself if I have to!" Uther raised his hands, taking a few steps toward where his captains where waiting for him.

"Easy lad. Brave as you are, you can't hope to defeat a man who commands the dead all by yourself." A dark look flashed over the blonde's expression, giving away his rampant thoughts. Did they care about the people that died? Did they care that he had messed up and did they care that if they didn't act soon more people would be lost to the ranks of the undead? The dark whispers circled his mind before he settled on a course of action.

"Then feel free to tag along, Uther. I'm going. With or without you." His declaration was met with surprised silence from his companions. Nodding decisively Arthas turned and walked away, leaving the others to stare at him from behind.

* * *

"Oww…"

Harry groaned faintly to himself as he continued to wrap the stolen bandages around his hands, ignoring the pouring rain that fell around him like a curtain, splashing around his water repelling charm. It had been a day since he'd been forced to run from the undead and he found himself perched in a tree more often than not. Soldiers fearfully paced the roads outside the uninfected villages as refugees made their way north carrying what they could of their lives on their backs.

Harry's hands had nearly been torn apart by the bark on the branches of the pine trees he took refuge in. He'd snuck past the guards of the nearest village and found what he could to cover them. Using a claw to tuck the edges of the cloth under the bandage he flexed his hands and winced when he felt them pull at the wounds, faint dots of blood showing through already. After pulling the dragon hide cloak around him and bowing his head he canceled the water repelling spell and resumed his walk down what he learned was the king's road, the major thoroughfare toward the capital.

Trudging along he chanced a look upward and noticed another cloaked figure on the far side of the road. Harry was about to look away though when the other turned his way.

Harry froze.

Dark ancient eyes glinted knowingly as they took in the sight of the hide through the rain and smiled.

"You have nothing to fear from me, young traveler." Even though he spoke softly, Harry could still hear him over the pitter patter of the rain. Deciding to give in to his curiosity Harry moved slightly away from the trees and looked over at the figure appraisingly.

The Prophet, as he was known, had been waiting for the prince. Young Arthas was the last he would visit with a warning, but this… this child was unexpected. Months ago, when he'd first set foot onto the mortal plain once more he'd had a vision of a band of Orcs, playing dangerously with the portal between the worlds. He had known to some extent that someone had crossed the borders and lived, but to find them like this on the side of the road.

If it wasn't already clear enough, he knew this one had a purpose.

The teen became more wary as the prophet crossed the road with long careful strides only to stop a few paces away.

"You are an odd one." The beads on his staff clinked together softly over the sound of the rain and green eyes shot to look at them.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice quiet. The prophet hid a smile in the shadows of his cowl.

"I am but a humble prophet, and I can see you have born hardships in your past." Harry shivered at the words, his mind going back to when he'd overheard Professor Trelawney's prediction after his Divination exam.

Prophecy's weren't good.

"I heard the spirits speaking of the Dragon who's hide you wear." The Prophet went on gold eyes boring into Harry's. "And they speak of you now." He tilted his head, listening to the sounds only he could hear, before nodding to himself.

"What would you say, young mage, to learning the art of transformation." He leaned forward, "How would you like to become the Dragon?" If he didn't have Harry's attention before, he did now. While he was confused as to why the Prophet was offering this the possibility of becoming one of Searinox's clan even if it was just in appearance was more than tempting, but the side of him that lurked in the back of his mind made the equivalent of a frown.

'_What's the catch?'_ it wondered and Harry frowned too.

"What's the catch?" He repeated and the old man chuckled faintly in amusement.

"There is nothing I would ask of you." He stated. "But that you listen." Harry took a step back and gave a hesitant nod, reluctant about trusting him. Seeing the affirming nod the Prophet began to explain.

"The sands of time have run out… the cries of war echo upon the winds, the remnants of the past scar the land, which is besieged once again by conflict. Heroes arise to challenge fate and lead their brethren to battle as mortal armies rush blindly toward their doom the burning shadow comes to consume us all." His eerie words set a chill to the air that hadn't been there before. "Demons, that once tried to invade this world, are once again rising. The Plague you see around you is their doing and as it stands, there is nothing that can be done to stop it. The only hope for the people of this land, is for them to travel west across the seas, and have them prepare for the final confrontation there, but they stubbornly refuse to listen."

Harry stared at him as the Prophet fell silent, his mind working furiously for the first time in a long time to understand what was going on. If he was correct, this world was in danger of being overrun with zombies and demons and there was nothing they could do about it unless they crossed the sea, but no one was listening to the only apparent smart person. The dimensionally misplaced boy-who-lived found his ire growing toward the people who ruled around here.

'_It's not my responsibility.'_ He concluded. The Prophet seemed to notice the line of thinking but he paid it little heed. The boy had actually listened and to date the only other person to so much as consider his warning was young Miss Proudmore. Yes, he had known she was listening that day he had visited the Archmage of Dalaran and that she would be again. The Prophet nodded to the boy before him and reached out with his staff until the tip of it touched the snout of the skull set on the wizards head.

"Learn this skill well." He said clearly, a charge running through the wood in his hand before it was released in a burst of light toward Harry, who barely had a chance to blink before darkness and pain rushed in on him. The Prophet knew he was unconscious. The spell he had cast would forcibly give the boy the ability to wrap the hide around him, and become a dragon, just as he did with the feathers on his cloak. "You have much potential, and there is so much for you to learn before you can be returned to your native realm." A smirk crossed the Prophet's face as he waved his staff once more. The boy floated into the trees behind him as the transformation began to take hold.

Concealed there among the trees the old man could see the gentle rise and fall of the large black mass as it slept on, unaware of the change and how much it would help along the course of fate.

* * *

Later that afternoon… 

In spite of the bogged down roads he was making good time toward Stratholme. The rain had stopped as night fell and opened the way for the stars. Jaina had been following him, up until a moment ago, but she'd backed into the trees muttering something about a presence.

To tell the truth, Arthas was actually a little glad that she was gone. The roaring silence between them had been uncomfortable to say the least. She disapproved on his plan to kill the leader of the undead but had followed him anyway even though she could never really understand why it was so important. Keeping up his steady ground-eating jog he rounded the bend in the road and immediately noticed the cloaked figure standing by the trees on the other side. He slowed, eyeing the man warily as he moved to pass him but before he could take two steps a strong voice called out to him.

"Greetings, Young Prince. We must talk." Arthas slowed to a stop and sent the man a scathing look.

"I have no time for this." He growled out, cursing under his breath. The man caught the hostility in his tone and returned the scowling expression in kind.

"Listen to me, boy. This land is lost! The shadow has already fallen, and nothing you do will deter it. If you truly wish to save your people, lead them across the sea… to the west." The very idea of leaving his people was appalling.

"Flee?" He asked incredulously. "My place is here, and my only course is to defend my people!" The blonde moved beyond him and the Prophet let his hood fall forward again over his eyes.

"Then your choice is already made." Arthas couldn't have heard the heavy hearted tone as he spoke, he was still so clouded with hate. "Just remember, the harder you strive to slay your enemies, the faster you'll deliver you people right into their hands." With his warning issued the Prophet knew it was better to leave. Casting a discrete glance into the trees he noted the still sleeping black mound one last time before he allowed his magic to make him back into a crow and took flight, soaring out over the treetops toward his next destination.

But, even as he left, a figure moved out of the trees, slowly making their way toward the prince.

"I'm sorry for concealing myself, Arthas. I just wanted to—"

"Don't say it!" Arthas cut Jaina off before she could say anything else that would serve to anger him anymore than he was, but if the mage was anything, it was stubborn and she pressed on.

"I sensed tremendous power about him, Arthas. Maybe he's right. Maybe he does know what will happen." The blonde's now perpetual scowl darkened considerably.

"Nothing he can say will make me abandon my homeland, Jaina. I don't care if that madman has seen the future. Let's go." As he bit out the final command he turned and began to run once more, racing down the road faster than before. Behind him, Jaina sighed. Something was wrong, very wrong, with Arthas. She knew her old friend well enough to know he was still reeling from his loss in Hearthglen, that much was obvious… but something else also seemed to be driving him. A vicious need for revenge…

But for what?

Sighing again she let herself drop to the ground and sat there in the mud. She could easily find Arthas or Uther later with her spells, but for now, she was becoming to tired to care where she was. It had been days since she'd last had the time to sleep and if she kept going like she was, she wouldn't be alert enough to clean up after whatever disaster Arthas was going to cause. She may be an agent of the mage city, but Arthas was still the Prince, and to the lowly masses like her, his word was law.

It was another minute or so before she remembered the Prophet's strange actions before he'd fled. She lifted her head and stared into the trees, squinting against the faint starlight as she attempted to see in the gloom.

Something was there.

Using her staff as a walking stick she levered herself back to her feet and moved into the trees. Light was cut off he moment she stepped under the boughs and she resorted to lighting the tip of her staff with a spell in order to see, and see she did. Before her was a glistening black mound of scales that stretched over a slightly sickly looking frame of a large beast that could have been nothing less than a dragon.

"Oh my…" She trailed off slightly as she reached out, running her gloved hand gently across the scales. Even with the barriers between them, the mild empathy she possessed could feel that this creature had been badly mistreated. There was a faint air of pain and hunger that eddied around it and for a moment she wondered if this Dragon had been a part of Searinox's clan.

When she'd gone to retrieve Uther she'd mentioned the person she'd seen sitting outside the walls of Hearthglen and the elder Paladin had nearly jumped out of his skin in shock, demanding to know everything before revealing the boy's history… or at least the parts he knew.

Jaina was shaken from her thoughts when a particularly loud snort issued from the black dragon and she froze, fearing what would happen if it woke up.

* * *

Harry had been in pain for a long time, but as it began to fade he found himself returning to the waking world. His body was oddly heavy and he wondered what he'd been doing when he passed out. Nearly straining himself, he managed to get to all fours before the sounds and smells of the forest hit him like a ton of bricks. Blindly he thrashed slightly as the new sensations threatened to make him pass out again before he smelt it.

Magic.

Eyes not even open fully he turned toward the source and stumbled toward it. As he did though he began to feel the pain once more and in his rush, knocked over the witch the power was radiating from. He crashed to the ground again and skidded, his head lolling numbly into the surprised human's lap and he finally got a look at the witch.

"**_Hermione…?"_** He didn't even noticed the deep rumble of his own voice as his eyes drooped closed once more. **_"…what's… happening… to me?"_**

With that, his world once again went black.

* * *

A/N: Neh, there you go! Just a short chapter for now, I may have put this up quick, but it doesn't mean anything else is gonna go up quicker for it.

Hmmm, as you can see in this chapter, Harry got a new power and found a few alternate versions of people from his world. You know who he thinks Jaina is, but who do you think the Prophet would be, Yeah? It could be anyone, but I'm not telling!

Don't forget to review.

Cya


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 5: Divergent Courses

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

It was raining again.

The gray drizzle hung over the city of Stratholme like a funeral shroud, as if even nature itself mourned the inevitable death that would happen here today. Outside the city proper, a small camp had been set up and soldiers milled around, making their final preparations to enter the city. Most of the men there didn't understand the mission they where about to undertake but as one who did know, Jaina wanted nothing to do with it. She looked out from the shelter of the trees, a good way back from the camp and sighed.

"Arthas… what have you become?" She looked back and stared at her unusual new charge, still somewhat confused as to how to deal with the black dragon. She'd brought it with her to Stratholme via her teleportation spell, having been somewhat reluctant to leave it behind after it had spoken to her in such a lost voice. It had obviously thought of her as someone else, but that was part of the problem. The creature had acted as though it was used to humans, if not like a human itself. Mysteries like these intrigued her but it wouldn't stay a mystery for long. Not if she could help it.

A shiver ran up her spine as a large group of humans stepped past the proximity wards she'd weaved around the area and she looked to see Uther approaching the camp.

"Well, it looks as though I'm needed." Jaina murmured to herself. She could have thought of it as talking to the dragon, but it hadn't woken up since that first time and now, long after the sensation of pain had passed it refused to open its eyes, like it was in a magical coma. Sighing again she left the corpse of trees and strolled down the hill, nodding to the older man in acknowledgement as she fell into step beside him. Uther looked grim, his face creased with lines of worry and age. Under the graying beard his skin was pale and drawn clear signs of the stress he was under, but still he tried to smile, at least for the sake of his men. The silent procession finally entered the bustling little camp and out of the rain came the instigator of this madness.

Arthas looked them over, a smile on his face as he noticed the column of soldiers standing behind them. "Glad you could make it Uther." He said darkly, his voice dripping with the anger that boiled under his kindly façade.

"Watch your tone with me, boy." Uther found himself spitting back his temper short from days of fighting futile battles. "You may be the prince, but I'm still you superior as a paladin!" At the reprimand Arthas fell into a sulk.

"As if I could forget." He muttered under his breath, eyes flashing. "Listen, Uther, there's something about the plague you should know…" He turned his gaze toward the city and watched the people milling around below them. He hesitated for a moment, as if deliberating what to say when something caught his eye.

A grain storehouse.

Suddenly telling Uther what was going on wasn't quite a priority anymore as he rushed to one of the makeshift lookouts and snatched a spyglass from his hands. He scanned the storehouse and immediately noticed the discoloration of the ground around it, as well as the piles of empty crates besides, freshly opened from a delivery. He next looked for the people and found what few where there looking rather ill as they ran indoors to escape the torrent of rain.

"Oh no." He breathed out as realization struck him hard. "We're too late." He span on his heel and immediately shouted the order to prepare for battle. Arriving back before Uther he gave him a rather desperate look. "These people have been infected! They may look fine now, but it's just a matter of time before they turn into the undead!" Uther looked startled at the exclamation.

"What!?"

The blonde's expression hardened as he looked back at the city.

"This entire city must be purged." If the former statement had startled him, this one downright shocked Uther.

"How can you even consider that!?" He burst out loudly as he recovered and the soldiers around them all came to a halt to watch the growing argument. "There's got to be some other way." Arthas became frustrated.

"Damn it, Uther!" he shouted. "As your future King, I _Order_ you to purge this city!" Uther glared at him in return.

"You are not my King yet, boy." He growled out around his outrage. "Nor would I obey that command even if you were!" A heavy silence fell, nothing moving but for the rain and wind. Finally, after a long moment Arthas turned away.

"Then I must consider this an act of treason." There was no emotion in his voice.

"Treason?! Have you lost your mind, Arthas?" Uther all but pleaded.

"Have I?" Was the cool answer, sounding even further detached. "Lord Uther, by my right of succession and the sovereignty of my crown, I hereby relieve you of your command and suspend your paladins from service." This was just too much for Jaina. Out of respect for the two warriors she had stayed her voice in this argument, but the Paladins and their holy magics where undoubtedly the best warriors they had to fight against the undead.

"Arthas! You can't just—"

"It's done!" Arthas snapped, cutting her off. "Those of you who have the will to save this land, follow me! The rest of you… get out of my sight." Another tense moment followed and then the army that had been at Uther's back practically split in two. One half did an about face and began to march off back the way they'd come as the others looked to Arthas awaiting orders. A few knights on horseback looked haughtily at the aging paladin as he glared up at the young heir.

"You've just crossed a terrible threshold, Arthas." He rumbled out gravely before walking off to join the retreating men. Arthas looked expectantly at Jaina as she stood frozen below him.

"Jaina?" He asked, his voice sounding hopeful. Shaken out of her thoughts the mage looked up at him and felt tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. This new Arthas… was so different from the bright little spoiled boy she'd known as a child. It was a hard thing to swallow, but that child in her memories was long gone, swallowed by a man drowning in his own grief and rage, and to make it all worse… there wasn't a thing she could do to stop him walking the dark path he had started down.

"I…I'm sorry, Arthas." She turned her back on him and began taking measured steps back in the direction of her lookout. "I just can't watch you do this." She didn't need to look to see how his expression had fallen and the shield of icy that was thrown up after it.

Shortly after, the city of Stratholme was engulfed by the screams of the newly condemned.

* * *

He knew something was different the moment he became aware once more. The pain and confusion of before was gone and in its place a crystal like clarity. He opened his eyes and instantly noticed the changes to the world around him. Unlike the slightly blurry sight he'd been walking around with after his glasses broke, he could see every detail of the forest in sharp relief. Colors seemed brighter and he had to close his eyes again before the sudden influx of information could give him a headache. Laying there and breathing slowly he could count over a hundred different smells, some of which where positively rancid as the wind blew through the trees carrying the stench of blood, death and sickness he'd become accustomed too during his time in Lorderon.

Eventually, he managed to block out some of the new sensations and opened his eyes, giving a particularly loud snort that startled the small blue bird that had been perched on his snout.

Wait… Snout?

He jolted upright, powerful legs heaving him off the ground and scaring more of the small wildlife that had been lulled into a sense of false security by his long slumber. He turned his head to the side and caught a glimpse of a large body covered in glistening black scales before the strange dream he'd had came flooding back to him.

Searinox had been there, but when he'd tried to speak he'd found himself silenced by something. The greater wyrm had looked him over with an unreadable expression before nodding to himself and lunging at him. After that it was as if he had been riding in Searinox's mind as he passed from memory to memory until they where like his own, feeling every movement of the draconic body as if he'd been born in one and now it was apparent that he _had_! Before the reality of his situation could sink in a smell reached his nose, making him twitch in discomfort as his sensitive olfactory senses where almost overpowered again. Unbidden a growl rose up in his throat as a figure passed the last ring of underbrush and the source of the smell froze.

Harry's sharp eyes examined the newcomer with a narrowed gaze.

It was a human woman, wearing a long symbol covered purple cloak with a staff clutched tightly in one hand. Her heavy white tunic and breeches where soaked through and her blonde hair hung limp around her face as red rimmed blue eyes stared back at him warily. The recently transformed dragon took a whiff of here scent and this time he could smell salty tears under the wild and flickering power that stung his nose.

He regarded her calmly for a long moment before he made the connection between the scent and magic, but that was unsurprising compared to the discovery that he had met this woman before!

"_**You…"**_ His voice was deep and distorted coming from a dragon's mouth, but he still got his message across. _**"… I know you."**_ The woman looked surprised at the statement and stared back wide eyed, what ever she'd been crying over before pushed to the back of her thoughts.

"You do?" She blurted out before she'd even realized what she'd said. "I mean, Master Dragon, you know of me?" She corrected herself abruptly, an even mix of surprise, curiosity and fear playing across her features all at once. Harry grunted as he tested his limbs, moving slowly around the clearing just to be sure his body still worked.

"_**You were in league with the murderer**_." Jaina flinched involuntarily at the name as she remembered the screams that had arisen from Stratholme as she was leaving. The dragon's description of Arthas was just to painfully accurate. Green eyes watched her the whole time.

"I…" She tried to begin, but the words caught in her throat. "Arthas has changed… he used to be so… but now…" The mage barely knew why she was trying to justify the other blonde to the dragon. Just by the name alone it had already confirmed its relation to Searinox and his clan. Dragon's by nature, where very loyal to their clans. They lived under their leader their entire lives and rarely ever splintered off unless they absolutely had to. Eventually she just sagged, feeling the weight of defeat even more keenly than before.

"I would have nothing to do with Arthas now." She admitted quietly. "He's gone to far… even to the point of killing his own people." She dropped to the grass, further dampening her clothes. Harry stared at her distrustfully for another few seconds before lumbering toward the trees. Jaina was startled out of her pity party of one as he carelessly shoved a few of the smaller trees out of his way and bowled over the few he couldn't with a wild flare of magic. Soon his path of destruction led him out into the night where the rain was slowly beginning to let up, turning from a torrent into a drizzle.

"_**Coming?**_" The mage scrambled after him as he continued down the hill and back into some more open forest. His first instinct was to fly, but on a night like this with so much rain, it was a bad idea, so he snaked his way along the ground instead, heading toward the south a little, where he would be up wind from the growing smell of death. He could hear the mage struggling to move through the mud behind him but this time his eyes where focused elsewhere. He was looking for a cave… anything, to get out of the rain. It wasn't long before the ground hardened slightly and Jaina took the chance to run up beside him. She was panting, even though he wasn't moving very fast… but then again, he'd almost forgotten that he was now at least thirty times her size.

He found what he was looking for a moment later, slipping under the stone overhang under a cliff face. It wasn't large by any means… but sheltered by a few trees and bushes it was sufficient. With a rather growl like sigh he let himself flop against the wall, his tail coming around to lay by his side like that of a cat as he turned his lamp like eyes on Jaina once more. She hesitated just under the edge of the overhang and Harry snorted before lifting his head and blowing a small green fireball at a nearby bush that stubbornly grew through cracks in the rock. It lit up in an instant and merrily began to burn away. The Mage came closer as he put his head down and closed his eyes, breathing another sigh.

Long days, not enough sleep and to many dreams… they all left him exhausted.

* * *

Watching the Dragon falling asleep without even the slightest fear of attack Jaina still couldn't quite comprehend what she was seeing. Edging around the larger being she shuffled over to the fire and arranged herself beside it, taking off her cloak and laying it out as she carefully forced enough of her magic back that she could levitate a few logs out of the rain. They piled themselves neatly beside the fire to dry out and she let her staff drop with a clatter.

When a mage reached a certain level small spells stopped being easy. Spells by nature had to be very precise, using specific amounts of magic and when a mage wanted to do a small spell, they had to hold back the excess magic they'd usually use or it would all just rush out and blow something up, adding to the fact, staff's could only help that control so much.

Still, sitting there in wet clothes, Jaina continued to shiver in silence wanting more than anything to talk and ask questions before the dragon rumbled again.

"_**Do you 'Want' to die, Human?"**_ It sounded rather peevish as it peered at her with a single green eye that glowed in the firelight. She stared back in confusion until it lifted a bony wing and she finally caught the hint.

"Oh…" she murmured and got up, watching the dragon warily the whole time as she settled down just behind his tail where she could feel the warmth it was emanating. For a moment she felt a thrill of fear as it lowered the wing again and plunged her into darkness, but her eyes where slowly falling shut.

"_**Sleep."**_ The dragon intoned in a voice that was layered with magic…

…and she did, the questions in her mind going unanswered.

* * *

The wind had shifted in the night.

Nostrils clamped shut, Harry groggily opened his eyes and shook his head to clear it as he looked around to get his bearings. The rain had stopped hours ago and the sun was only just peeking over the horizon. In the distance his eyes picked out columns of smoke as well as the rancid smell of infected burning flesh.

Oh joy, maybe he could have barbeque for breakfast if there was something non-plauge ridden left.

Harry's eyes widened in horror at the thought and he promptly beat his own head on the floor to get the image of hog tied and roasted human out of his head. Shaking off the sudden headache he hefted himself up and shook himself out like a big dog to get rid of all the kinks. Fortunately for him, the mage he'd helped the night before hadn't been there to see his moment of purely human stupidity and for that he was glad. The extra sleep had done wonders for figuring out what was going on in his head, and he'd finally managed to differentiate between the dragon mind and the human mind. It was a cold sort of shock, like someone had poured a bucket of ice down his back, to have something planted fully back into reality. He was scared, lonely and painfully aware of how different he was to the rest of the people that lived in this world, but for the first time since he'd witnessed the slaughter of the inhabitants of Privet Drive he was _Sane_.

That was what scared him most.

Still, he'd better get moving, sane or not.

He set off in the direction of the smoke trails, using the Mage's scent as a guide.

* * *

"So much death… I can't believe Arthas could have done this."

Jaina stared numbly at the flames of a mass funeral pyre as the people of Stratholme burned their dead so they couldn't be brought back from the grave. Not far off, nosing through the wreckage her recently acquired Draconic companion growled a loud reprimand, knocking her out of her daze. The mage blushed hotly as she realized she was letting her mind wonder off to Arthas again. It had been three days since the Massacre had occurred and people where still cleaning up in the wake of the Prince's madness.

He'd come to see her before he'd left, chasing his demons to the crown of the world and for a moment Jaina would have loved nothing more than to go with her childhood friend…

"_**RRROOAAAARRRRRRR!!!"**_ WHOOSH Jaina nearly jumped out of her skin when a blast of fire rushed past her to slam into a hapless stray sheep that had escaped the temporary enclosures, burning it to a crisp. The blonde turned and glared at the black drake who merely gave her an apathetic roll of the eyes as he lumbered by her and snapped up the crispy morsel in one sleek movement.

"Jaina! _Jaina Proudmore_!" The young woman sighed and turned around in time to see the enormous amour clad form of Uther round the corner.

"Lord Uther?" The Paladin heard her soft enquiry and immediately rushed over but not before there was a frantic clatter of scraping claws and alarmed growls from the dragon. Jaina had to duck slightly as one of the dragon's wings lashed out over her head and she turned to see the creature firmly entrenched onto the side of the nearest building tail first and snarling at the elder man. Uther managed to pull up short, equally alarmed by the reaction.

Jaina looked from one to the other and decided to defuse the potential disaster by placing herself squarely in Uther's view. The knight took a moment to notice her and even so, he kept one eye on the dragon behind her as he began to address the mage.

"Ah, Jaina." He glanced sadly at the burning funeral pyres. "I though I might find you here… Where has he gone, girl?" He asked, and it didn't take a genius to know whom he spoke of. "Where has he taken the fleet?"

"The fleet?" Jaina wondered at how far Arthas would go. "He came to me before he left. I pleaded with him not to go. It sounded like a trap." Before she could go on the dragon gave another irritated snort. He obviously couldn't stand it when she let her depression get to her. For a moment she thought he cared, but then he always did something equally nasty that made certain that he wasn't doing it for her.

"Where?" Uther questioned, ignoring the dragon. Jaina looked at her feet.

"Northrend, he's gone to Northrend to hunt Mal'Ganis." Uther cursed.

"Damn that boy! I've got to inform King Terenas." He turned as if to leave then span back, his expression soft. "Don't be to hard on yourself, girl. You had nothing to do with this… slaughter." Last words said he cast a wary look at the dragon who had finally climbed down from the wall before he vanished back in the direction of the city gates.

Sighing, but determined not to fall back into a slump, Jaina turned back toward her strange companion.

"What will we do now?" She wondered and he growled.

"_**Look."**_ He nearly threw her off balance as he thrust his head forward and made her flail wildly before she found her balance and noticed the enormous raven flying down the street toward them and it took a moment for her to realize that she'd seen it before.

"You!" She let out a startled shout as the prophet took his human form in a flash of crimson light and smoke. The cloaked man ignored her and looked over her shoulder to see his younger friend apparently in better spirits than last time they'd met. He certainly appeared to be less wary.

"Why not take your true form, young traveler." He addressed the dragon who growled slightly while Jaina looked on in confusion.

"True form?" She echoed while the black drake gave the Prophet a withering look, but the man simply stared at him until the beast huffed and suddenly vanished into a nimbus of green light and smoke, not unlike the way the Prophet had. Alarmed, Jaina squinted into the magical fog and caught a glimpse of a rapidly shrinking form before the cloud dispersed and she found herself looking at a painfully skinny, very dirty teenager draped in the hide of a black dragon.

This is the creature that had happily been scaring her out of her wits constantly since this morning?

She didn't get to much time to think about it as the Prophet spoke again, this time addressing them both.

"The dead in this land might lie still for the time being, but don't be fooled. Your young prince will only find death in the cold north." The younger mage felt the part of her that still felt loyalty toward Arthas rise up in his defense as she spoke without thinking.

"Arthas is only doing what he believes is right!" Her blustery anger only lasted a moment as a sting shot through her posterior and she yelped, spinning on the dragon boy who matched her glare with an innocent look.

"Commendable as that may be, his passions will be his undoing." The older man continued, ignoring the byplay going on before him. "It falls to you now, young Sorceress, and to you Traveler. You must lead the people of these lands west, to the ancient lands of Kalimdor. Only there can you combat the shadow and save this world from the flame." He turned around, staff clunking heavily like Mad-eye Moody's wooden leg as the light of transformation appeared around him.

"Wait!" Jaina tried to call him back but he merely waved carelessly over his shoulder.

"West to Kalimdor!" He repeated and soon the Raven stood in his place once more. It cawed out loud, sounding for all the world like the cry of death, before it jumped up into the air and vanished over the roof tops.

The blonde girl stared after it for the longest time until she turned, her ire growing as she readied to shout at the teenager in the dragons hide but she let out a frustrated scream a moment later as she caught sight of the dragon legging it in the other direction, snapping at the heels of the townspeople to make them get out of his way faster.

"Get back here!" Jaina yelled, further scaring the survivors. "YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!!"

She gave chase, forgetting the prophet for the time being.

* * *

A/N: And that's another chapter!

I know that Harry had a personality swing toward the end of the chapter, but like I said, he was nuts before and he only just got over it so he'll be up and down like a Yo-yo for a long time to come.

And No, before anyone asks, there WON'T be any pairings in this… with the exception of the slight, Tyrande and Malfurion, warcraft cannon pairing. (I spelt her name wrong didn't I… not that it matters yet…)

Don't forget to review!

Cya


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 6: Eye of the storm.

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

A/N: I know, I'm seriously going to regret saying this… but yes… there will be a sequel, but don't go getting all excited and keep your bums on.

First of all there will be a few delays like, I have to play to get an idea of where all the necessary characters will be, then I've got to get far enough to go questing after something that's big and bad enough for a bad guy. There are plenty to chose from in WoW, but I need to find all the stuff that relates to what Harry has been involved with in Warcraft 3. Yay, time to read more history books…

Anywhoo… so this story is like the kiddy quest. Harry's only about fifteen/fourteen so nothing mondo will happen in this one, but in the next one he'll be older and I'll be a bit more open to the idea of pairings. But that story won't come for a while yet...

* * *

It had been months since the massacre of Stratholme and looking back at the brief time of peace they'd had one would now see that their hope that it was finally all over had been just a dream. What was left of the human population of Lorderon who still believed in Jaina's leadership now sat in ships headed west to the wild continent of Kalimdor.

After Arthas had left they'd begun to gain ground on the massing undead. Uther had used his authority to sway the king into pulling all their men back from the outer fronts so they could combat them and it had worked too, bar the absence of the royal fleet that never returned from Northrend when summoned. Arthas proving to be more pig headed than anticipated in his quest to kill the demon that had been behind the attack on Lorderon. Mal'ganis, a wicked creature of the twisting nether that had accompanied the slew of Undead, had apparently admitted to controlling the plague made monsters that roamed the lands after the massacre in Stratholme. He'd been the one to goad Arthas into following him and as the days passed even the King himself feared for the fate of the errant prince. Of course, Harry could care less what happened to him.

Jaina had overseen the survivors of Stratholme until they where taken in by the nearby cities and the military camps popping up all over the country side. Once they where all accounted for she'd lead the way to Dalaran where they'd been expecting her for weeks. Harry had been forced to wait outside the magical city when Jaina entered, not wanting to meet the inhabitants.

He liked Jaina, he could tolerate the clueless villagers and didn't mind occasionally helping out soldiers, but his dislike for the upper classes of this world had been festering since the day Arthas landed a blow on Searinox's head. So he thought it better to wait where he wouldn't end up doing something stupid or get himself killed.

Jaina had re-emerged from the city later that night, fuming with indignation at the reluctance of the mages to follow the orders of the prophet now that there was more credibility to his claims, but with the recent victories of Uther and the armies of Lorderon they felt no need to leave their comfortable city and walk into uncertainty. Without their support Jaina had a hard time gathering people to her cause, but those who trusted her judgment came when she sent out the call for help, followed by none other than Uther. The paladin, admitted in private that there was a chance that something could still go wrong should they lose their grasp of the situation and it was better to have something as a backup. The next day a third of the army was reassigned to preparing for a long sea voyage.

When it seemed that the worst had come to pass, the fleet that had followed Arthas north came limping back as broken men with hollowed gazes and no will to fight the undead anymore.

Uther had invited Jaina and Harry to court the day they delivered the news that Arthas had killed Mal'ganis and left the battlefield, never returning, even when the soldiers, scared and hurt had managed to build new ships for themselves and sail home. They also brought the sad news that Muradin Bronzebeard, brother to the King of the Dwarves, had been killed in the cold north.

An air of gloom hung over the heads of the people as news spread.

Slowly the fighting ended and the undead became fewer and fewer until they where simply pockets of resistance holding out in villages they'd already conquered and left to raiding graveyards for sustenance.

It looked as though Lorderon would recover and persevere but it all went to hell in a hand basket the day _He_ came back.

Arthas stormed through the gates of the city and into the palace, murdering his own father in cold blood. He'd become something worse than the reckless and moody prince he'd been before. Now he was a cold tyrant, bent on destroying his own homeland to feed an army of the undead and make way for his new demonic masters. Uther had been right by the kings side and was only able to watch in horror as his liege was killed. Soldiers sacrificed themselves to see him and the body of the king to safety before he could send a message to Jaina to leave right away and not turn back for anything.

His handwriting had been uneven and blotched as he reported what had happened and Harry got the impression that the old paladin was afraid. Not that he could blame him.

Now, nearly a week after getting that message they where still sailing and Harry was perched on a railing of the ship as a human, his face looking more than a little green as he emptied the contents of his stomach over the side for what felt like the thousandth time since they'd set out.

Done vomiting he leaned back and scrubbed his mouth roughly with the hem of his shirt, thankful that he didn't have anything left to throw up anymore. Someone giggled behind him and he turned to find Jaina leaning against a large stack of crates, watching him.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen anyone get quite as sick as you on the sea." She laughed as he glared at her and moved closer.

"Yeah, well, I can't help it if I like to fly." Jaina rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, leaning on the railing a little ways off from where he'd been retching.

"What do you think we'll find in Kalimdor?" She asked and Harry shrugged. The mage had asked that question a lot over the past week and Harry couldn't answer. Searinox had come from the eastern continent, preferring not to go to the west. So any stories Harry knew where vague at best.

"I don't know." He answered anyway as a sailor working with the nighttime crew walked past on his way to the bow. Harry took a good look at his…. Friend and noticed the dark circles around her eyes. She was worrying again. Jaina hadn't been all right since they'd set off from Lorderon's shores, worrying constantly about the people under her command, the civilians she'd gathered before setting off and the danger waiting for them both ahead and behind. The blonde had been to busy with her self imposed duty to the people in the fleet that she was running herself into the ground and at this rate she wouldn't even be in any decent condition to fight when they arrived.

Somewhere in her thoughts Jaina sighed again and Harry finally got tired of looking at the waves that only made him feel sicker.

"Common, you need to go to bed." He took her by the shoulders and lead her below deck, Jaina complaining all the way, but a quick spell later and she was out like a light, to tired to resist when she was forced to sleep.

Harry backed away from the door and went back out on to the deck, faltering in his steps and making the sailors snicker. He sent them a dirty look and hefted himself on the railing, pushing himself over and immediately catching himself on the wind as the transformation took place and he plunged into the ocean, bursting back to the surface with powerful beats of his wings and lifting himself into the sky.

The seasickness was gone the instant he rushed into the air, making waves behind him that tilted the ships below but all he did was laugh as he indulged in his favorite pastime. He wasn't sure how long he'd been flying over the fleet when the clouds finally began to roll in from the south and he began to take note of how high the waves where growing. He dropped his altitude and flew between the great walls of water that had formed and spied the Sailors and Soldiers alike rushing over to stop the boats from capsizing in the surf, and Harry went cold.

The storm…. The storm was going to kill them.

Suddenly the nearest ship tilted dangerously and Harry flew over, wings beating fast as he pushed it upright. It stayed up as the tip of the next wave crashed on the deck, pushing the entire thing back on to him. His strength faltered and the dragon was thrown back into the water as the boat slammed into him.

Stunned by the blow he couldn't move to save his life as the shadows of the fleet moved over him and the storm cut out any chance he'd have of rescue. Somewhere in the back of his mind the voice of logic told him that he'd drown if he didn't try to move soon, but as black encroached on his vision he found himself to tired to care, and just as he drifted off, he could swear that he'd felt something swim by him…

* * *

He was up to his waist in water when he awoke. The sun was bright and he could feel his skin burning even as he rolled himself over, using the hide to block the light. Coughing, he brought up the water that had tried to enter his lungs and lay there panting on the beach.**MWwwaaarrrrrgguul**

Whack!

Something hit the skull on his head hard enough for him to feel it and Harry forced himself into action rolling back and climbing to his feet before he found a spear shoved in his face. Looking down the length he saw a fish like blue scaled creature looking back at him.

**MWwwaaarrrrrgguul**

It let out another gurgled scream and the fish person lunged. Harry had to move before the blade put a hole in his forehead. He danced out of the way and stumbled, landing ungracefully on his backside when the creature squealed in victory and went for the kill…

WOOOOSSSSHHHHH!!!

**_MWarrrrrgguulllllllll……………_**

The creature vanished as a large log of wood came out of nowhere and hit the fish person out into the ocean, screaming until it hit the water well out to sea. There was a loud rumbling laugh from above him and Harry looked up almost fearfully to find an enourmous, very well built humanoid that resembled a bull looming there. Slung over it's shoulder like it weighed next to nothing was the large log carved with glowing orange symbols that pulsed gently in time to some unknown beat.

"**Hohoho, Murlocs, better seen from a distance they are young calf**." It spoke with a slow, thundering voice, but it held a sort of warm endearing quality that put the Wizard at ease. "**We'd best be going, before that one decides to come back…**" It held out a hoof and Harry stared at it before grasping it. The bull heaved and lifted him off the ground so he was dangling above it before setting him back down with a little more force than necessary.

The humanoid didn't seem to notice as it turned and began to lumber away. Feeling weak and cold, Harry hurried after him, just in case the Murloc really did decide to come back. His clothes where waterlogged and continued to slow him down but he resisted the urge to shed any of them. Thankfully for him, the bull didn't seem to want to go very fast either.

"**You don't look like an Orc…**" The bull said slowly looking back. **"…but you wear strange skins like them…**" Harry stopped walking at the sound of that name. Where there Orcs here? Nearby? Utterly uncertain about where he was or what he was even doing here he looked around and caught sight of the tropical trees littering the edge of the beach before the land gave way to harsh red stone and cliffs. Beyond the small stretch of jungle was nothing but a sun-baked wasteland.

"Where am I?" He asked, the question slipping out in spite of himself.

"**This is Kalimdor.**" The bull said and gestured him closer. "**and I am Moros of the Tauren.**"

"Harry." The teen introduced himself weakly. "And I'm a--" he was cut off by a thought. What was he again? Then the memories came crashing back and he remembered the storm and how he'd been knocked into the water by the ship when he'd tried to keep it from capsizing…

"Hey! Were there any other people washed up here?" he asked quickening his steps to catch up with the Tauren now that he'd started moving again. Moros gave a rumbling chuckle.

"**Many have washed up here. What our guests call ships, have been broken on the rocks. We have been searching for the survivors for many days**." That gave Harry come hope that there was still someone left alive after the storm. He followed the Tauren for what felt like hours as he lumbered along the coast and Harry felt himself drying out at last. Night was falling and he was still following along mechanically when he ran into the back of his guide.

"**We have arrived…**" Moros said as quietly as he could, smiling at the sleepy human before stepping aside to show him their village. The usually quiet village was lit up with lanterns and bonfires in honor of their guests and orcs where clustered around the village, laughing and snarling in their own language. Moros gave a pleased rumble at seeing their makeshift village so lively and went to join them, but Harry…

His eyes where wide and his breath came in pants as his eyes darted from Orc to Orc trying to decide who would be the bigger threat as his instincts screamed at him to run. More memories he'd slowly been forgetting over the past few months where dredged up from the dark holes that they'd been buried in and it all became to much for him as his mind did what it could to preserve what little sanity he had left and shut down.

* * *

"_**Ahhh, the calf awakes**_."

Harry became aware to the sound of a voice, not unlike that of Moros, but more feminine and gentle. He opened his eyes and looked blearly under the edge of the cloth over his forehead to see a far more slender pure white Tauren female seated beside the rug he lay on. Past her, hanging on a makeshift frame, was the dragon skin, its empty eyes staring at him blankly. For a moment panic filled his mind and he nearly bolted for it but the Tauren laid a hoof on his shoulder and gently held him where he was. The hoof glowed and he relaxed, feeling more at peace than he'd likely ever been.

"_**I am known as Marnela."**_ She said softly, gesturing to herself with the hoof she removed from his shoulder. _**"You where found outside our camp, and brother Moros admits that he was wrong to leave you, little one. I have healed your hurts. You had much water in your lungs that had not dried out and the beast of the hide, it lurked in your very soul… I have removed it for the time being."**_ She absentmindedly settled the blanket over him in a better position as she spoke. Effectively pinning his weakened body to the ground without really meaning too. She shuffled off slightly and began packing away vials of glowing potions into her bag in a way somewhat reminiscent of Madame Pomphrey.

She stowed the bag in a corner and returned to her seat by his side as the world beyond the walls of the tent exploded. Harry shot upright, instinctively reaching for a weapon or his magic before the hoof once again found his shoulder pushing him down.

"_**Do not panic little one."**_ She reassured him. _**"The Centaurs have begun to attack our encampment, but our new friends the orcs have been aiding us in defending our current home. Once they have been driven back, we will cross the barrens and reclaim our homeland."**_ Harry was confused, hurt and dizzy. He didn't understand what they where talking about and all he wanted was to be around someone familiar, like Jaina or hell, even Uther. The paladin… Harry didn't hold him as responsible for Arthas's actions when he learned of his presence that day.

He flinched every time something Exploded or a creature screamed. Sounds blurred together and lightning flashed by the opening of the tent as it was torn open by a centaur. It's human skin was a sooty gray and it's face held a remarkable resemblance to Victor Krum who'd had his nose broken one to many times. Dirty dread locked hair poked out from under a malformed helmet of leather in the same muddy shade of dark brown as his horse half's coat. Harry wanted to get up and fight but once again Marnela intervened. Clapping her hoof's together she placed them on the ground and murmured out something in a deep language that Harry didn't understand.

The ground rumbled and large thorny vines tore out of the hardened dirt floor and wrapped around the intruder. With another bellow the white Tauren cast another spell that practically tore the centaur to pieces, the thorns wrapped tighter around the corpse and dragged it down into the earth and out of sight.

"_**Return to the Earth Mother, so that you may be reborn as anew."**_ Marnela said the strange prayer and returned to look at her charge only to find him staring with wide green eyes.

She'd forgotten, this one was only a child.

"_**Forgive me if I frightened you, young calf." She intoned softly, but I couldn't have him harming one under my care**_." She fell silent again, waiting patiently for the fighting to end and end it did. They hadn't been disturbed again after the first centaur met his bloody end.

Eventually as things calmed down Moros appeared. He was just about to enter the tent when he saw the blood on the ground and looked up to see Marnela giving his bloody and brain splattered totem a pointed look. The warrior heisted for a moment then put the totem down outside before entering.

"How does he fare?" Moros asked and took a seat nearby.

"_**He is fine, Brother Moros."**_ She began. _**"But not for your lack of attention!"**_ She scolded and walloped him over the back of the head. _**"Leaving one so small out there where he could have been killed! You should know better than to let calf's stray from the herd!"**_

Yes… she was exactly like Madame Pomfrey.

Moros looked properly contrite by the time Marnela had finished scolding him, great warrior or not. When she'd run out of the steam to yell at him Moros looked back at Harry.

"**Now that the immediate threat had been dealt with, Cairne would meet our guest."** He stated and Marnela sighed.

"_**He should stay abed longer if you wish him to recover."**_ She grumbled before untucking the blanket atop Harry and getting swiftly to her feet, grabbing her bag and leaving the tent with loud angry thudding steps. Moros simply blinked like this behavior was nothing unusual as Harry got up and sidled around the bull to the rack where the dragon hide hung. By the time Moros turned around Harry was settling it back around his shoulders with a sigh of relief as the comforting distant murmur of heavily breathing dragons started up again in the back of his mind.

"**Let us go."** Moros rumbled and lead the way out of the tent and into the camp. Harry flinched as he caught sight of an Orc in the distance, roughly tossing a corpse into a pile. Staying close to his guide he let his eyes wonder as other Tauren both male and female stopped to look at them before turning back to what they where doing. They passed a group of young Tauren running back and forth between a nearby oasis and large open tents with buckets before Moros came to a stop outside the largest tent of all.

Through the open entry Harry could only just make out a few darker shapes moving around a fire pit in the center. Guards to either side of the entrance eyed them as Moros steered him into the gloom and straight into a red armored back.

There was a grunt from somewhere above Harry's head and the figure turned around only to find the one who had bumped into him was a small, human clad in dragon hide lead by an apologetic looking Tauren.

"Hmmmmm…" The noise came out more like a rough growl as the Orc eyed the pair. "Be careful where you step." He warned and stepped to the side making the rest of the room visible, but Harry wasn't really seeing anything as he stood stock still, eyes widened in horror as memories flashed across his vision. He almost began to hyperventilate when he was broken from his thoughts by a hoof nudging him on the shoulder. He finally blinked and shook his head to clear it as Moros drew himself upright and nodded to his leaders.

"**Chieftain, Warcheif, this is our newest guest. He was found washed up in the beach to the south of here."** A large brown and gray bull, far larger and much older than Moros, squinted across the fire and snorted softly while a large proud looking Orc, clad in more ornate red amour with slick black hair tied into a ponytail stared, his gaze equally as measuring.

"He is Human." The Orc, grumbled eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Human's are far from Common here and surely he would not be here alone." If Harry wasn't scared stiff by the presence of the Orcs he might have snapped back at him for that comment but as it stood he could barely breathe, even with the Tauren standing between them.

Cairne seemed more perceptive as he looked between the Orc and the human, obviously smelling the bad blood. They didn't know each other, but there was certainly a reason for one to fear and the other to be suspicious. Deciding on the least damaging route available to them Cairne waved a hoof at Moros.

"**I think for now, it would be best to concentrate on other matters, like our migration to reclaim the plains of Muglore."** Cairne rumbled out. **"Moros, please keep him with you for the time being, we must be ready to make the journey across the Barrens." **Moros didn't question his avoidance, instead leading Harry out of the tent and into the fresh air as upset growling began to issue from the structure they'd vacated. The bull didn't miss the pale shade Harry had gone under the concealing hide.

"**You fear our friends, the Orcs."** He stated more than asked, making Harry jump and swallow thickly. The subject wasn't one that had been a real issue until now. He hadn't seen a single Orc since the day he'd run into Searinox's den, if you didn't count the heads that often ended up there to scare him. He'd almost managed to forget his fear but it had all come crashing back as soon as he'd laid eyes on them, proving that no amount of time or help could make the memories of the night of his arrival fade. He followed in the bull's wake as he maneuvered through the nomad encampment and out beyond the edges of the bustling activity.

Moros dropped and sat cross legged on the cracked dry ground in the shade of a large tropical tree and simply stared at him until he approached and sat nearby. The silence was getting to him when Harry finally sought to break it.

"Orcs… they killed my family." He said, his voice blank as he relieved the memories for the first time. Before this, he might not have cared if the Dursleys had died. They weren't exactly the best role models, and they'd caused him nothing but pain for most of his life, but never had he wanted to see them slaughtered like pigs. The brutal way their lives had ended outstripped any of the visions he'd received from Voldemort or the Dementors. Harry knew magic, he knew it could be used for evil as well as good, but there was nothing good in the way that Orc had used a Blade.

Moros didn't push the issue any further as they stared out toward the coastline before the bull clapped his hooves together.

"Enough rest." He said somewhat brightly. "We are leaving this place tomorrow for our homeland. We will have to reclaim it from the Centaurs and for that we will need to be prepared. Let us go assist my brethren."

That said he got up and lumbered back to camp and Harry, still somewhat loose minded, followed, allowing himself to get lost in the busy preparations for the next day's march, never leaving Moros' shadow.

Not once did the thought of Jaina or the human fleet cross his mind.

* * *

There! All Done! This was a bit of a rush job to finish. I was busy leading up to Waicon and now that it's over I don't really have a lot to do…. At least until I leave for Christmas. I've gotta visit the relatives with my sister. Ugghhh, we're gonna kill each other before new years, if not on the plane ride over to Queensland.

Anyway, I guess if you wanted you could come say hello on WOW if you wanted too. I play on the US Nordrassil Server most of the time with my alliance main, Auraion. Marnela is on there too, but I don't really play horde too often.

Don't forget to Review!

Cya


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 7: Lions and Trolls and Orc's, Oh my!

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

A/N: Mah, Mah…. I just have a little gripe to get off my chest… and not that I'm mad or anything but one reviewer didn't think before writing (I'm talking to you mister Servant of K-sama – Anon).

Yes, Black dragons are mostly portrayed as evil, in both WOW and W3, but they weren't always like that, if the interpretation of the history books scattered through WOW are correct. (Which, given who wrote them, should be the case anyway.) Thus there is an opening for some sort of multi-dimensional character as far as dragons (or dragonflight) are concerned. They are intelligent and powerful beings… not single minded monsters, Onixia being a prime example because she sought revenge for her children as Lady Prestor, when they where killed by humans. She was just a scorned mother consumed by her grief.

The second part of the Review they said 'the prophet' was the red dragon himself. He wasn't. Medivh was human. He was born the only son of the Guardian Aegwynn who fought on behalf of humanity against the invading demons in their first attempt to take over Azeroth. She didn't trust whomever would be named her successor by the Council and Medivh was to carry on her legacy. Unfortunately, when she destroyed Sargeras's body, his soul took refuge in her body and possessed the unborn child.

In later years, Sargeras took over his mind and made him summon the Orc's from the outland, effectively bringing the Horde into existence before he was killed in Karazhan by his apprentice, Khadgar (Now found in outland) and a party of heroes including Anduin Lothar, Knight Champion of Stormwind before it's fall to the Horde. The human part of Medivh returns for the events of W3 as the Prophet to right the wrongs Sargeras inflicted upon Azeroth in his form.

So you see, I do read the source material, and I do so _**very**_ well. I don't start a story until I have all the historical facts to back it up. So you got no business tryin to tell me that I don't research stuff when it's **YOU **who need to study the material more carefully!

………ahhhh, it's so good to get that off my chest…

Now, on with the story!

* * *

Harry blinked…

…the Troll sneered.

"Why does Lau' get stuck bein da babysitter for da hyumon whelp?" The Troll had dark blue skin, a thin beak like nose, small tusks growing from inside his bottom lip, spiky ocean blue hair that was slicked back into sharp points and a hunched over lanky form that shortened the being to nearly half his actual height. He wore old worn pants made of hide with no shirt and bare feet and he slunk along beside the caravan, makeshift stave of a fishing pole in one hand as he continued to mutter his complaints.

Harry was riding on the back of a Kodo in the Tauren's caravan as it wound it's way across the wasteland that was The Barrens. Moros, the bull that had been looking out for him, was at the head of the train and unable to stay personally so in a rare show of courtesy the Warcheif of the new Horde, Thrall, had offered to let one of his men escort Harry around during the journey. The dark haired boy had snorted his amusement as he figured that it was more to keep watch on a potential threat than anything else.

Thus he'd been paired with the only creature that a) he wasn't terrified by, and b) wasn't ready to kill him. Trolls seemed to be as a rule, extremely hostile toward any sort of humanoid creature. They had hatred down to an art form and loved to let the others know, they where vicious in combat and bad tempered when faced with other species. Harry had the feeling that if the Tauren hadn't decided to like him, he'd be dead.

Which lead to a different train of thought.

The Orcs and Trolls where oddly… restrained.

Orcs where unruly and destructive, often barbaric in their behavior, but these ones marched in organized columns on either side of the caravan. Unlike the Orcs he'd first encountered, these ones had been trained into a single military unit in spite of their savage history, but that didn't make Harry any less wary of them. The Trolls where similar, but they were less disciplined. Marnela had told him that the Darkspear Trolls who accompanied the orcs had gone with them to escape the isle's that they'd landed on when they where banished from their homeland, Stranglethorn Vale.

That had explained why Lau'tiki, his escort, was a fisherman.

Harry looked back at the Troll and he snarled. Harry gave the Troll his own scowl in return, making the lanky blue creature look away from him. They weren't on the best of terms to begin with. Instead Harry turned his gaze outwards, the Barrens where as dry and inhospitable as their name implied. According to a nearby Bull, they where still half a days march away from the first of their stops on the way, an oasis that would be a welcome break from the heat.

They'd also told him that it would most likely be overrun with Centaurs as well, but he didn't mind that so much. Centaurs had never been his favorite creatures, and compared to the ones in the forbidden forest around Hogwarts these ones could be called downright stupid. Violent and rough hewn people they where scavengers making a living by hunting down the caravans that passed through the Barrens.

It was with all that in mind that Harry looked for a way to pass the time as he tried not to feel sick. Being perched on the back end of a Kodo was disturbingly like being on the sea, what with the way the giant creature rolled and rumbled beneath him. Eventually, he just chose to stare at Lau'tiki's head.

At first the Troll didn't notice, his gaze having been turned outward. Then, he eventually became aware of the eyes on him and looked back to see the little human staring at him blankly.

"Wha' you want." Lau drawled in his heavy accent and Harry kept staring.

"You, I'm gonna kill." He grumbled in irritation.

Harry kept staring.

"Stop dat!" The blue Troll demanded and looked stubbornly in the other direction. Slinging his Fishing rod onto his back as he folded his arms over his chest. There where a few titters of laughter before the Troll peeked out of the corner of his eye and found Harry…. still staring.

"AARRRGGHHH!! DON'T YOU GOT SOMETIN' BETTER TO DO?!?" The troll threw up his arms, yelling in unintelligible Trollish and stomped ahead to the other side of the Kodo. Nearby Orcs burst out into raucous laughter and a few of the Trolls cat called in their own language, picking on Lau for being so easily disturbed by a human of all things. Harry only gave a half smile to show his amusement before the caravan came to a shuddering halt. Having been unprepared for the stop, the green eyed boy nearly fell off the Kodo before he found his wits and scrambled up the pile of supplies to see over the Kodo's back.

Tauren, Orcs and Trolls alike, milled around the caravan in confusion as the commanders stood stock still at the head. From the back of his giant wolf, Thrall made a hand sign to the grunts and they spread out, Cairne did the same, and the Tauren took up the defensive around the Kodo. The air turned thick with tension and no one dared move before, somewhere in the distance, Harry heard the _TWANG_ of a bowstring and acting sheerly out of instinct, threw up his hands, raising a shimmering blue shield that was instantly pelted with arrows, the magic stopping them dead in their tracks.

"**AMBUSH!**" A Tauren bellowed somewhere nearby and the Orcs gave a roar as the Centaur archers appeared on nearby rises. Grunts took refuge behind their shields as they scaled the heights to face them dead on. Harry had to hold on for dear life as the Kodo bulked and began to back away from the noise, nearly trampling the guards. The chaos continued as more centaur attacked from the other side, charging them recklessly as their pets, wild dogs and hyena's, harried the Tauren not fast enough to avoid them.

After about a minute of watching in stunned silence Harry was finally shaken to awareness when a loud cry rent the air nearby and he looked behind to see Lau'Tiki fending off a trio of Marauders who had been going for the supplies. Harry let go of his perch and slid toward the fighting, almost going flying as he fell off the side of the Kodo and ducked under Lau's arm, claws going for the legs of the first centaur he encountered. It reared and tried the wheel away but as it came down on it's front legs they buckled and the raider let out a scream of pain.

In the precious few seconds after that the fighting abruptly stopped as Harry transformed, his draconic state, looking nothing like the emancipated creature he'd started out as. Green eyes blazing with inner fire Harry _roared_. The Kodo's panicked and nearly trampled the other travelers as they parted like the red sea. The centaurs broke off their attack and stared, only to turn and run a moment later as the dragon lunged forward, snapping up the nearest raider and shaking him with powerful jaws, breaking the creatures neck before it was thrown into two more of it's comrades.

Harry rushed away from the caravan and took off in pursuit, breathing green fire that melted the skin from their bones and turned the rock around them into molten slag. Some of the centaurs where torn in half, others where tossed off into the distance where their eventual fall would probably kill them. Soon all that remained of the centaurs was a few corpses and a dust cloud on the horizon. The Black Dragon let out one last loud challenging roar and snorted before turning back to the caravan.

Everyone stared…

…Harry growled.

* * *

The rest of the walk to the first oasis was uneventful.

After the failed ambush, nothing was willing to approach the adolescent black. He continued to growl softly as he walked beside the caravan, easily keeping pace with the Kodo as they lumbered across the plains. His rumbling didn't do much to put the others at ease, as the Orc's eyed him warily. The Tauren where steadfastly ignoring him, most unwilling to comment the way the orcs had put up a fuss. However the biggest change had been in the trolls. Now that he wasn't a pathetic little human, Lau' had no complaints as he loped along beside him, just outside of easy snapping range.

"You not da' Humon anymore." He'd explained. "Lau' kin live wi'd dat."

Upon reaching their destination the Orc leader had grudgingly ordered him to go ahead and clear out any of the centaurs present. The Orcs where further incensed when Harry gave a thundering growl before doing so. He did not like to be ordered around, not even by Jaina and had made the point clear by snapping at Thrall's mount's tail as he passed. Kodo where unloaded for the night and allowed to graze as patrols where set up on the perimeter and the travelers settled down. Harry separated himself from the bulk of the contingent and settled himself in the ground cover that grew around the oasis, his green eyes glowing from the falling darkness as he watched the others warily.

It was after the majority of the warriors had given into sleep that anyone approached him. Lau'Tiki slouched over and crouched on his heels nearby.

"So what be da' Dragon really?" He asked, scratching his long nose in a careless manner. "Lau' hear 'bout Dragons dat be turnin' dem'selves intah Humon's, or are you bein a humon dat turns intah a Dragon?"

The question seemed so strange to his ears, and for a moment he thought of what Searinox would have said had Lau'Tiki asked him that question. The ghost of fire and the smell of charred troll flitted across his senses and he laughed. It came out as a deep rumble and Lau' was nearly thrown over backwards by the huff of air that Harry expelled. A real dragon, would have killed him for that, and Harry had to admit that it took either guts, or pure cluenesses to ask that sort of question.

"_**I was… am Human."**_ Harry admitted, _**"But I take the shape of a Dragon when I need."**_

Lau' rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. "Figures." He yelped though, when Harry let out a jet of flame that fell just short of the Troll's feet.

"That explains much." Both the Human-turned-Dragon and the Troll froze, looking around to see the leaders of the three sects watching them. Thrall was the one who had spoken, and Harry growled at his presence, he was uncomfortable, even though he had learned to distinguish between the Orcs that had slaughtered the residents of Privet Drive and the ones who marched with them.

They approached slowly when he didn't lash out, and Lau' backed off slightly to allow them Harry's attention. Voljin fearlessly slouched forward, the troll leader sticking his beak like nose at his snout and looking into his eyes. Studying him with a sharp gaze, one far more wary than his relaxed demeanor let on.

Harry decided he was starting to like the Trolls.

Carine was there too, Moros standing behind him and to the right as he always had. They smelled different when he was a dragon, everything did, and they brought to mind hamburgers… yum.

He had to turn away before his expression could betray his thoughts.

"**Shape changing is not unusual to us**." Carine ground out in the same deep, placid voice that most Tauren carried. They understood the virtue of patience. "**Our druids, use the gifts of the EarthMother to take on the shape of her creatures. It is also said that the Prophet, at the base of Mount Hyjal has no single form, many who seek the Prophet tell of him favoring the shape of a great Raven**." Although he couldn't have known the significance of his words at the time, both Thrall and Harry perked up in interest.

"What?"

"_**Really?"**_

When they spoke at the same time Thrall wheeled around and set the dragon with a hard look.

"**Do you know already of whom I speak?**" Carine wondered, looking from one to the other. The Trolls stood to the side, Lau'tiki shifting uneasily behind Voljin, well aware that he was the most expendable creature there, should a conflict break out.

"You too seek the Prophet?" Thrall asked, eyeing the Black cautiously. "What business do you have with him?" Harry snorted.

"_**He taught me this shape and bid us to bring the remnants of the people of Lorderon here to Kalimdor when their Prince betrayed them to the Scourge.**_" Of all the answers Thrall had been expecting he hadn't quite anticipated that. Seeing he had his attention Harry decided to simply continue, realizing that the Orc had absolutely no idea what had taken place in the Human kingdom, having left long before the fighting had broken out in earnest. "_**A Plague swept through the kingdom, turning the people into Undead, their corpses walking mindlessly, destroying all in their path while their souls fled.**_" He was using words Uther had used to describe them; nothing he could say would get the message across the way he wanted.

It wasn't like he liked them too much either.

The Group was silent.

"**This is grave news indeed.**" Carine spoke with a seriousness that made everyone turn to stare. "**You have given us much to think on.**" All words seemed to die at the clear dismissal. Respecting the Elder Tauren, Harry backed away, moving nimbly for a dragon as he wove between the trees and back out toward the plains. Lau'Tiki took one look at Voljin and the other troll grunted before he followed the Dragon into the darkness.

Caught in thought, the others joined their own tribes for the night, any talk left waiting until the morning.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, I know I know, the bloody thing's short, but I've got people riding my ass to make me update and it ain't no fun. It probably changes tune half way through as well but there's not much I can do about that short of re-writing it and taking another couple of months before I'm assed enough to finish it off.

Lol, I never realized what a massive undertaking it was, getting ready for the various cosplay events throughout the year. I've got a shitload of costumes to make. Including a Fran from Final Fantasy 12. I refuse to buy the costume, so I'm making it from scratch and you know how bloody intricate her amour is? It has chainmail!

Anyway, it's got me crawling the walls in frustration so I'll be distracted by that and like a billion other things as well.

Anyway, Don't forget to review.

Cya


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 8: Marauders and Misunderstandings.

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

A/N: ….. and P.S. to Justanotherfan….. trust me, this isn't rushed. Not in the least… and that's the real problem. But no… stories I post, are never coming down. Regardless of whether or not I finish them.

* * *

The sun was still below the edge of the horizon as the contingent set out across the plains, taking advantage of the early morning cool to speed their march. Harry trudged along in human form once more, struggling to keep pace with the faster moving members of the horde. Lau'Tiki loped along beside him, snickering as he fought to keep up.

"Shut up." He grumbled and picked up his pace, his tail snaking through the dust behind him.

"Lau' be wonderin why da dragon not be stayin da dragon." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Because _'da dragon'_" he imitated the Troll's accent. "Doesn't feel like it." Against his better judgment he'd reverted to human to avoid the eyes of Thrall, and the leaders of the tribes that had confronted him the night before. The troll snickered again and continued to look ahead. A few of the warriors around him gave the pair wary looks in spite of being assured that he would be no danger to the Members of the Horde. Technically, Lau'Tiki no longer had to watch him, the Troll leader had decided that it was unnessesary for Harry to be watched when he was clearly a powerful mage that could keep up with them in battle, but by that point the aforementioned Troll hadn't been inclined to just go away and so he was still moving alongside Harry.

He'd admitted after the order had been retracted, that he wasn't that good of a fighter at all and that it was probably better for him to be at the side of the rampaging Dragon when anything attacked, which was more than likely. They'd been subjected to minor skirmishes ever since leaving the oasis. Centaurs scouting to see if they could find the great beast that had defeated them. They where getting bolder and bolder when they realized there wasn't a dragon anymore, but that didn't mean they didn't fall at the hands of the warriors that protected the caravan.

There had also been a few new additions to their ranks over the day. Members of the Horde, the ones that had seemingly been lost at sea, appeared in groups, swelling their ranks significantly. It was around then that Harry realized there was more than one united tribe following Thrall like he'd most stupidly assumed. The Warsong Clan Orcs where wilder than their original escort, but no less loyal.

A few of the newcomers where less than pleased by his presence and Lau' told him that that was because most of these orcs that followed the young Warcheif, had all been in captivity at some point in their lives. Thrall himself had been a slave before their exodus from the eastern lands.

It was late on the third day of their march that their scouts came back with news of a Centaur encampment in the hills not far away. They'd stumbled upon it by accident, but the tribe of centaur they'd found there consisted mostly of the ones who had been harrying them for the better part of three days.

The decision to make a pre-emptive strike against the Maruaders was put before the tribal leaders and it was soon decided they'd attack them at dawn. But something didn't sit right with the mage. Harry brooded by one of the campfires as the warriors began to settle down for the evening and thought long and hard about the information they'd recived.

There where many Centaur's in the hills. Probably more than they had soldiers to combat them. With the odds stacked against the newcomers it would take long for them to overtake the much smaller army that was with him.

So… that meant he'd just have to even things out a little.

"Hey!" He hissed, "Lau'!" The troll was busy talking to another lanky blue skinned being and didn't hear him so the human strolled right up to him and grabbed the crouched male by one long pointed ear.

"Ow, ow, ow! Wha' chya be doin dat for?" The troll shouted indignantly as the other snickered and wondered away.

"Come'on!" He urged him, tugging on his arm to make him move away from the campfires. "We've got work to do." The troll found his footing and slinked along beside him. His new friend was trouble incarnate and it was always good for a laugh.

"Wha' be dat?" Lau'tiki asked, earning a deadpan look.

"You know as well as I do there's to many Centaurs to just attack them." The troll nodded. They'd been allowed to sit in on the leader's strategy meeting if only because they'd made sure that Harry's dragon side would have a large part to play in the coming battle. "Well, we're gonna even the odds a bit."

Now that didn't sound too good.

"You sure dat bein a good idea, Dragon?" He asked nervously, getting another flat look as the claws at his hands sparked.

"Just help me find their food and water supplies." Harry grumbled as he watched the poison beginning to spread across the talons. "If we can cut their numbers the others will have a better chance at getting out of this with most of their skin intact." The troll shivered as they located food caches and went about setting traps. Lau' spending most of the time playing look-out while Harry played with his magic. He poisoned the food and water first making it inedible before they where forced to break off and hide from a nearby patrol. Any weapon left unguarded was sabotaged and trip wires set up at the right height to take out a horse. Magically created pitfalls appeared and objects enchanted to come to the aid of any caravan members nearby.

After working tirelessly for hours Lau' caught the younger mage as he came close to passing out and began the long process of dragging him back to the encampment.

"That… should be enough." The human whispered, his skin a pasty grey due to a lack of magic. He wasn't even sure he had enough strength to transform anymore. The troll rolled his eyes and slung him over one shoulder, grunting under the weight of the dragon hide before stumbling back to the caravan. He crept past the patrolling guards and dropped the mage into a large patch of shadow before rummaging around a few crates. When he found the mana potion he forced it down Harry's throat and let him go back to sleep, a little colour returning to his face.

"Sleep well, Dragon." He bid him goodnight and slinked off toward a nearby tree to get some sleep, both dreading and anticipating the dawn.

* * *

When the sun finally approached the horizon… it was screams they woke too.

Orcs sprang to the alert grabbing for weapons and rolling to their feet, only to stop as they topped the ridge of dirt that surrounded the Oasis and stare. The Centaur camp was on fire in the distance, thick billowing clouds of smoke grew into the sky as dry grass caught fire and traps exploded. They watched in silent shock as the last of the Centaurs screams faded into a tense silence.

"Get a team together and investigate…" Came the terse order from Thrall and a few Orcs broke off from the crowd of warriors in order to go scout.

From his place, high up in a tree where he could see out over the Barrens, Lau'tiki shook his head and went back to sleep, unconcerned with the carnage that had happened just beyond the hills.

Damn the kid for keeping him up half the night.

* * *

The Caravan wasted a day waiting for news of the Centaur's fate.

Scouts returned and reported the encampment completely devoid of life. The corpses told them a story in that the food and water had been poisoned among other things as the place had been saturated in traps, some of which almost defied all logic as to their appearance in the night. Experienced hunters all knew it would take more than a dozen of them over a day to create but they'd all been accounted for in the camp the night before.

Baffled and unnerved the Caravan set off once more along the eerily quiet plains. Harry had switched back to riding the Kodo's again, with Lau running along side to make sure he didn't fall off while he slept. More than once the blue skinned being caught the eyes of Voljin as the Leader of the Darkspear Trolls dropped back to observe them. He didn't need to be psychic to know that the Elder already knew about his and Harry's little midnight adventure, but Voljin kept his silence. Lau was kind of glad for that.

It was nearly dark already when they reached the final oasis in the journey, and the place where the members of the caravan would finally part ways. The Kodo where unpacked and the food was shared around while anyone who had made friends with the Tauren said their goodbyes before they could set out at first light. Harry woke in time to eat, and continued to sit curled up amid the dismantled tents, food stores and other items that had been tied to the Kodo's looking for all the world like a miniature dragon sitting upon it's horde. His eyes caught the light from within the empty skull and they flashed, giving off the impression of glowing emerald coals. More than a few Orcs and Trolls shuddered at the sight.

Dawn seemed to come all to quickly as their camp was packed up once more and the caravan split into two. Harry was soon found by Moros and Marnela, the siblings some of the last few Tauren's left as the rest of their people began a slow march to the west and the waiting plains of Muglore.

"**Will you be coming with us youg calf?"** Moros ground out in his usual slow tone and Harry frowned. But after a long moment of thought he shook his head.

"No, I don't think I can." He said, looking off to the northwest where a spine of mountains loomed higher over the plains and Marnela was first to catch on.

"_**Ahh, your Master is waiting, is he not. The one teaching you of your powers?"**_ Harry nodded and gave her a wan smile. He liked the Tauren, and he was, to be honest, very sad to see them go, but he had his own path to follow, just as they had theirs.

"With any luck I will be able to come and visit you when all this is over." Harry's smile widened and Marnela gave him a stately nod.

"_**I would very much like that, thank you." **_Someone called out to them from behind and Moros gave a loud bellow before he turned back to them.

"**We must go now."** He pinned Lau'Tiki with a look, his eyes sharpening as he watched a nearby cluster of Orcs then looked back to the Troll. **"See to it that you look after the Calf, Troll."** He warned him sternly and the lanky male snorted.

"You be kiddin' mon? Da whelp be not'ing but Trouble. Maybe you shou'd be telling da Whelp to be looking out fer me!" Moros burst out into loud bellowing laughter as Marnela tugged him away. With one last wave of his totem the bull turned and the pair began to run, crossing the ground with surprising speed in order to catch up with the rest of their Tribe. The mismatched pair left standing on the edge of the edge of their own procession watched them go until they where nothing but dots disappearing on the horizon before they realized that the others had left them behind.

Cursing up a streak Lau'Tiki turned and got ready to run as well, but Harry gave him a wicked grin that stopped him in his tracks.

"Have you ever seen a Troll fly?"

* * *

Their encampment was rough, but made to weather the harsh climate as they swarmed like ants over the mountain. Jaina watched the survivors of Lorderon build their lives up from the ground and for the first time since they'd arrived in Kalimdor, they might have even been _happy_. It brought a smile to her face as she watched some of the few children still in their midst playing under the careful watch of the women as they worked hard to prepare the days food… but all too soon the clank of amour soon broke into her thoughts and one of her captains climbed through a hatch out onto the watch tower's roof.

"Mi'lady." He bowed his head briefly and stood to attention. "Our scouts have returned from the east and I've been sent to inform you that an encampment of Orc's has been building up in the east." Jaina turned sharply and pinned the man with a stare.

"Does this have anything to do with the craft that was sighted flying over the mountains a few days ago?" The soldier nodded.

"We believe so." He said darkly. "We sent out a few griffin riders in response and they've reported that there is another large group of Orcs moving from much further east to join them, though it looks as though they've acquired some new allies, blue skinned creatures. The spies have heard them being referred to as Trolls…" Jaina had expected as much, it was stupid to think that the Orcs wouldn't find friends to help them in the long run, but then, she noticed that the Soldier seemed to be hesitating.

"What is it Captain?" She asked, her voice sounding a little more severe than she'd intended. The man gulped and lowered his eyes.

"Our scouts…" He trailed off as if not to tell her then gathered his courage. "Our scouts have seen what looks to be a prisoner with the reinforcements coming from the east Mi'lady. It was a young boy, in what looks to be the hide of a black dragon." The man finished in a rush and took a few steps back watching the woman's face intently as is stilled in shock, then cycled quickly through bewilderment, surprise, horror and finally settled on Rage.

"**WHAT!!??"**

* * *

Grom Hellscream was getting fed up with the humans standing in their path. They'd encountered the large group standing between them and the mountains and it looked as though the Humans where settling in for an extended stay. He grumbled as he poured over the report that a scout had just given him.

Thrall had been sighted at the head of a veritable army marching from the east and while he was glad they'd be getting reinforcements he was a little ashamed that Thrall would see him at a stalemate with said humans.

For a while they'd been exchanging only small blows. A few groups of scouts encountering the enemy and skirmishing before they both limped home with bruises, but in the last few hours their ferocity had increased. The humans fought harder, as if in response to some unspoken threat. Grom had increased the guard on the outskirts but the humans… or more specifically their leader where determined to pass their encampment and take Thrall's forces head on. The large Orc hadn't known why until the scouts that had made contact with Thrall had returned bearing news.

Thrall had a human with him.

It stood to reason that if a human was important enough the human's would do anything to bring him back. Thrall hadn't disclosed anything to the scouts, keeping his cards close to his chest as he traveled and that was why he was going to go and meet him himself.

Exiting the Hall that was the center of the newest Orc outpost Grom joined the few warriors that would accompany him.

"Lets Go." He ground out and set off, trusting his men to protect the outpost while he was gone.

* * *

A/N: Right, I could have continued but I was feeling the need to update something. Anyway, this seemed like a good place to leave off with a cliffhanger, Ehehehehehehehe.

Don't forget to review!

Cya


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 9: Clash.

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

A/N: Just so you know… I was in a bit of a silly mood when I got around to writing most of this…I actually lost the screenshots of the script from the game, so I was forced to go from memory and be… creative. Still, it might be a nice break from the story, it was getting too angsty for a while there… what am I saying? It was always angsty! Lol.

And if you haven't already guessed it, you'll notice that I didn't pick up this story again until Wrath of the Lich King came out…. Well, if you guessed that Blackrock and Roll 2 would include the WotLK storyline…. Then you where correct. Harry and Arthas are going to go for their second and final round in the sequel, but first….

* * *

Harry's mood had picked up significantly during the flight, and he spent the majority of the trip after that playing small pranks on the Orcs. A few of the trolls joined in when they saw the potential for fun and their little band of two had expanded to five. There was a slightly older mage who wore tattered purple robes and an old wooden mask decorated with brightly coloured shells and feathers, a young apprentice witchdoctor and a tracker who had been roaming the caravan restlessly for most of the trip.

A few days ago Thrall had stopped to enlist the help of a few goblins in order to scout ahead and he'd been rather tight lipped on what they'd discovered but Harry couldn't really bring himself to care. When he wasn't playing pranks on the Orcs most of his time was spent either flying in his dragon form, or sleeping…

And it was during one of those times that the Warsong and Griffin Rider scouts had overflown the caravan and of course, Harry didn't know that yet.

He'd been napping amid the packs when the first Warsong emissary arrived. There was a cheer that went up from the few Warsong Orcs that had managed to join their party and he was jolted awake.

"Wha…?" Disoriented from sleep he looked around to find Lau, but the Troll was off elsewhere. At the prospect of being alone, Harry nearly hyperventilated, but before he could all out panic he scrambled to the top of the kodo and looked out over the procession to where a small party of Orcs was approaching from the north west.

Thrall hadn't sent any out that way after the goblins….. so what where they doing there?

Curiosity growing, he slid down from his mount and snaked his way toward Thrall, avoiding the orcs as much as possible before he came into view of the leaders and discovered the reason for their stop. Beside Thrall, was another strange orc, this one wearing what he knew now to be Blademasters cannonball sized beads and a kilt.

His blood ran cold.

Unlike Thrall's yellow eyes, these ones where tainted red and without either realising it, they'd triggered a massive panic attack. After all, it had been a red eyed blademaster orc that had slaughtered his family.

Memories that he'd successfully been repressing since joining the convoy came flooding back and he started to back away, startling those who hadn't realised he was there as he stepped out of a Kodo's shadow. The small human backed away from where Thrall was clapping his blademaster counterpart on the back and this time instead of feinting the irrational fear made his instincts scream at him to simply RUN.

And without a single thought to the consequences, he did just that.

Now there where startled shouts as he wove in-between the Trolls and bowled over the Orcs on his maddened dash for the side of the convoy, and at one point he vaguely remembered Lau attempting to stop him but it was unsuccessful as he used him as a springboard to launch himself into the sky and transform. His immense roar of panic shook the valley as he raced into the sky and vanished behind the peaks of the mountain range.

Confused members of the horde milled around on the ground, wondering about the dragon's panic, when there was a horn call from the same direction that the Warsong emissary's had come and out of the trees came a small army of humans, proceeded by a loud call.

"FOR LORDERON! FOR THE KING!"

Barely a second later a wave of humans crashed into their ranks and they where forced to fight for their lives as the unwavering courage…. Or in this case maybe, stupidity, of humans drove them deeper and deeper into their ranks before they broke off into the same direction as the dragon.

Orcs where left scratching their heads in confusion while at the head of the convoy, Thrall looked to where Grom Hellscream, his blood brother. Had also been thrown aside and frowned.

"What…. Brother. Was that about?" He asked gruffly, looking off in the direction the humans had gone and signalling the brutes from taking up the pursuit. Grom watched him get up from where he'd been thrown into a boulder and couldn't help but shrug.

"I have no clue what the humans are thinking, Warchief. No clue."

* * *

His frenzied flight took him right through the next valley before he calmed down enough to wrest back control of his rampant instincts and came in to land. He spent a good few minutes cursing as he sat on a sun baked hillside, arms wrapped around himself while he shook like a leaf. It was both painful, to be confronted like that, but his reactions where almost as humiliating. He'd been getting better… or so he'd though. Surrounded by the Orcs in a caravan, day after day, it had seemed like he was finally healing… then seeing the newest Orc leader made him realise it was nothing like that at all.

Sorting through the memories of his mad dash he groaned and put his head in his hands when he remembered throwing Lau'Tiki aside. God only knows why the Troll had remained at his side for so long, but now he'd probably gone and ruined that. Growling in anger, pain and frustration he forced himself to his feet and started walking. What direction he went didn't matter, just as long as it wasn't back. He didn't want to go back and confront his fears and he sure as hell didn't want to see Lau, or anyone else like he was.

One shaking foot was placed before the other, and after what felt like hours, he stopped shaking. The youth climbed a foothill and passed over into the next valley before a screech forced him out of his daze and he became aware of the fact he'd passed into the woods. Hills still curved up against the sky in all directions, but the ground was green with grass and the trees towered over his head like solitary guardians.

His eyes drank in the scenery before he heard it again.

"_KAAWWW!" _

Nearly jumping out of his skin at the sound he span, and there through the trees was a large host of women…. With wings…. Flying…. Harry's brain half fizzled before he shook out of his daze and looked closer. The women where gathered in a circle around a small group of creatures that looked, for the most part like lions with horns until he noticed the membranes that stretched under their forelegs. He saw their use a moment later when one of the beasts tried to escape, leaping up for the sky and spreading its paws into bat like wings before the Harpies (as he correctly identified them) mercilessly brought it down.

At the creatures helplessness Harry saw red, and was through the circle of witches before they'd even had a chance to register he was there. Dropping to his knees beside the beast that looked the most injured, he held out his claws and tried casting what little healing magic he knew. Frantic wishing made the effect stronger and light flashed out of his hands, engulfing the beast and when the light receded, there wasn't a hint to even suggest it had been hurt before.

The Harpies weren't at all pleased.

"_HOW DARE YOU!"_ One witch shrilled at an earsplitting volume and Harry tried to cover his ears. _"HOW DARE YOU HEAL OUR PREY! SISTERS! ATTACK HIM!"_ Next thing he knew, there where talons and spells flying through the air toward him as the air crackled with thunder and it was all he could do to think, "Huh?" before the attacks hit him.

Searinox's hide protected him from the scraping talons and claws, but the shamanistic lightning attacks cut through him like a knife, sending him reeling in pain as he rolled end over end and into the trunk of a tree with a thunderous crack.

Without moving to defend himself, he sat there, twitching and dizzy as the next wave of attacks came thundering toward him but they never made contact. There was a roar of another kind as the Beast he'd healed came barrelling out of nowhere, knocking into the group of Harpies and scattering them around as the lion… thing… grabbed a screaming bird woman by the leg and shook her around, beating her into the trees, the ground, and even other harpies even after her neck had broken and she went limp. The beast dropped her and moved on to the next as the Harpies gathered their nerve once more, but the damage was done and the distraction had been enough for Harry to get his bearings, grit his teeth and transform.

"_**RRRROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!" **_

Shrieking in alarm, the Harpies scattered in pure panic as he let out a powerful bellow of frustration, turning the witches into nothing more than frightened screeching birds with the mental capacity of chickens. Their ranks where scattered, and Harry snorted a fireball after them before his attention came back to the small circle of beasts watching him. After a few wary moments, the leader came forward and it crouched low to the ground.

'_Great one, we are Wyvern. We are Pridewing. You brother to Pridewing.'_ The strange growling speech translated brokenly in the Dragon's mind, but when he understood the gist of it Harry found him staring.

"_**Uhhh….."**_ He watched as the Pridewing Wyvern's picked themselves up and started to fly back toward the hills, some walking along the ground, their wings to damaged to simply take off and glide but then, the largest that had introduced them, got to its feet, walked a few paces, and looked back expectantly, and the adolescent dragon finally figured that they wanted him to follow.

So, with nothing better to do and still in dragon form, he lumbered after them passing quickly through the trees and out of the valley.

But… if he'd turned around, he might have seen that the dragonfire he'd sent after the fleeing Harpies had caught a tree, and being magical in nature it would become a blaze highly resistant to being extinguished by magical means. So the fire consumed the valley, and transformed it in a way that would later be blamed upon Goblin industrialists before the valley was given a new name…

The Charred Vale.

But Harry wouldn't hear about that for a long time.

* * *

There was a rampant air of crackling animosity between the two sides as the slopes of the Stonetallon mountains became a battlefield. After the Dragon had franticly fled the caravan, things had gone from confusing to insanely chaotic as the Humans had descended on the Orcs with a vengeance. Without the powers of the black Dragon to back them up like they'd had on the trip there, Thrall had warned the others to hang back and be wary, but Grom, impatient and incensed by the constant stream of attacks, gave up on defending and went on the offensive.

The young Warchief had been forced to spread out his forces more than necessary to cover the holes that Grom's reckless charges left in the defence as they finally began to make some headway, moving further and further up the mountain path.

Naturally though, the humans where making it anything but easy. Their entire colony stretched over the mountainside and Thrall was still oblivious as to their reasons for being there, but as it stood, they where right in their path… siting on the only road to the cave of the Prophet.

The whole mess was giving him ulcers just thinking about it.

To one side of their rough planning table Voljin was being far from helpful. The few trolls trained in combat where doing well enough on the battlefield, but the elder himself seemed… tickled, by the entire charade. They'd caught one of the attacking Humans, and when they'd interrogated him they'd been dumbfounded by what he'd had to say.

When asked why they'd attacked the human had all but yelled.

"BECAUSE YOU LOW DOWN DASTARDLY MONSTERS KIDNAPPED LADY PROUDMORE'S LITTLE BROTHER!"

And when they grumbled out a "Why so urgent?" The soldier had looked at them like they where stupid and said.

"BECAUSE HE'S AFRAID OF ORCS!"

Amusing… or embarrassing, as the scene had been it did explain a few things. Like why the Tauren had been careful to keep the boy separate from the orcs, and why they'd insisted the guard be a Troll when they'd assigned someone to escort him earlier in their journey…

And it also explained the string of semi-vicious pranks that had been plaguing his warriors for the latter half of the trip.

So, Thrall had sent out his own scouts to locate the teenager (all Trolls of course) but the boy was nowhere to be found. He had a feeling that this entire confrontation could have been avoided simply by giving the human back to his people, but they were no longer listening to reason.

Resigning himself to more pointless combat, he groaned when a scout slid into the command tent at breakneck speed, bearing the worst news he'd heard in the last hour.

"Warchief! We've spotted a delegation of Tauren coming from the south!"

Thrall didn't think there was a pain potion strong enough to take care of his headache.

* * *

Nestled higher in the hills was a valley. In that valley there was a small lake, surrounded by tall cliffs all of which bore large nests high off the ground where no predators could reach their contents. Large graceful bat winged forms glided from nest to nest as Harry navigated the narrow entry, still in dragon form, and waded into the lake, the small body of water being the only open area large enough to hold him in the small cleft.

The Pridewing, as they called themselves, all cried out when the group returned and Harry only half understood the words of the wyvern as they cried out to each other. A dozen or so females met the lead Pridewing right away as he touched down by the canyon wall. Harry made himself comfortable as he sat in the water, head lolling on the bank as he watched a few of their very young came to investigate.

For a moment, it felt like he was sitting back in the cave, with Searinox and his broad.

For a moment he felt like he was home.

He let out a semi annoyed huff of breath as one small flightless cub tried to use one of his horns as a chew toy, dislodging it with an outraged squeal. The others seemed to take it as an invitation and soon he was playfully snapping at the cubs as they raced and tumbled around the edges of the pool. The sun slowly made its way across the sky as all too soon twilight had descended upon the mountain and the cubs where herded away to sleep.

Harry had fallen asleep too. Drifting in and out of sleep before he heard an all to familiar whisper in his dreams.

_//"It's time young traveller."//_

Blinking awake he heaved a sigh, looking around at the simple beasts that he'd befriended in such a short time. They where animals, nothing more, nothing less, but like the dragons they'd given him more of a sense of belonging than most humans did. As if sensing his thoughts, the Patriarch, the first one he'd healed, glided down from the highest nest to land by him.

"_Great one leave." _

It wasn't a question. Harry let out another huff of hot air that was supposed to be a sigh.

"_**Yes." **_

Half dragging himself from the water he let the transformation take hold reverting back to his human shape. The beast didn't react, instead nudging his side as he stood by the water looking around at the creatures sleeping home. Harry traced his claws across its horns before letting his arms fall to his sides.

"Well… I guess this is goodbye." He murmured. The overgrown cat let out a rumbling purr and flopped to the dirt watching him as he turned to the entrance and walked out onto a natural mountain trail. A raven cawed in the distance and without another thought he turned to follow it. Eventually finding his way to the mouth of a cave where the raven awaited him. It hopped into the darkness and Harry let it lead him far into the mountain before it finally stopped and transformed. Twisting into the familiar shape of the prophet.

"Hello Young Traveller." He greeted him and for whatever reason, Harry found himself smiling back. "I trust you've been keeping well these last few weeks?" The man continued and the green-eyed teen laughed.

"You could say that." He said simply, a bitter tone to his voice. The elder simply shook his head.

"I am afraid we have much to do and not long to do it." He swept a hand outward, lighting a dozen candles that where arranged all around the makeshift living space deep within the mountain. "So much to teach you before my time in this world runs out… for you, Harry Potter, will become my legacy in this world."

"My time as Guardian is just ending, yours however, has only just begun."

* * *

A/N: Hoohum…

*Mage Grins*

Okay, so I kinda trailed off into obscurity there at the end… but hey! I wasn't following the script for once, so I really changed it around in this chapter. And like I said at the beginning, I was kinda in a loopy mood when I started writing this. I've been on pain meds for the last few weeks after doing some muscle damage in my back, but ehh, what's a little light heartedness here and there?

:)

Don't forget to review!

cya


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.

* * *

Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover

* * *

BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 10: Reunions

* * *

Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.

* * *

Harry never opened his eyes once as he listened to the song of the cave around him. Magic hummed in the air around the Prophet named Medivh and he knew very well time wasn't on their side.

"Try it again." The man encouraged him and Harry reached out with his senses and felt for the magic in the air, slowly coalescing it into a spell that he thrust forward and into the captive squirrel that had wondered too far in to the wrong part of the mountain. There was a small poof of smoke and all of a sudden standing there in the small pen was a bemused sheep. Harry's lips curved involuntarily in a smile as he caught sight of the creature and he nearly licked his lips before it transformed back to its original shape a few minutes later.

"Well done." Medivh clapped him on the shoulder. "Most don't get that spell right away. Your previous training has made this so much easier."

Since his arrival in the cave, Harry had been learning spell after spell. The odd words the old man had spoken in greeting had only been the beginning as he all but poured the knowledge into Harry's brain and made him use it to cement the skills. As they'd worked Medivh had told him all manner of tales, as time slipped into the background, letting them work without rest.

Learning all the spells he'd seen Jaina perform and more, he also learned why.

Medivh told him he didn't belong to this world. That was, he Medivh, didn't. Harry didn't come from this world, but he already felt like it was home. The old prophet told him the stories of the Demon invasion, the Orcs, his part in this world's sad history and last but not least, about his mother.

The man told him that he would be the next guardian of this world. One to watch over and guide instead of outright protecting them like Aegwynn had tried. The Council of Trisfall, though good in their intentions, had ultimately failed in their sole defence of the world and when Aegwynn had allowed her pride to get the better of her and make such a terrible mistake she had not only failed the world... but her son as well.

After spending the majority of his life, locked behind the walls of his own mind, Medivh understood better than anyone that the defence of Azeroth could not be held on the shoulders of one being alone... many people lived in their world, and many more would be needed to finally triumph over their enemies.

And so Harry learned.

* * *

The caverns were dark and cold.

Thrall stood at the head of a small company of Orcs and Trolls peering into the dark and wondering why he was even there as they navigated the traitorous pitfalls and chasms that littered the cave alongside irritated beasts that reacted violently to the disturbance caused by the noise they made. His orcs, Grunt's mostly, spread loosely around the tunnel, all keeping a sharp lookout while a few trolls slinked in and out of the darkness. Their priests, a few wreathed in shadows of their own slipped in and out of sight, fearlessly wondering the tunnels ahead. Although, at the group's core was a small group of Trolls that had steadfastly insisted upon being present.

The majority of their army had regrouped at the base of the mountains where they'd finally come to some semblance of order. Thrall, fearing the damage his brother Grom might do in his absence had sent him north, to the abundant forests that lay at the base of the great mountains that loomed in the distance. He was to harvest what resources he could while Thrall set out to find the Oracle.

The humans had come to an uneasy truce in the early hours of that very morning when Thrall himself, flanked by a newly arrived Cairne and Volgin, had fought his way to their leader and taken the situation in hand, telling them in no certain terms that they had NOT kidnapped anyone as the human woman had thought.

Jaina Proudmore may have been human, but she of all people had a temper that Thrall could respect. She'd threatened him with death anyway, when she'd discovered the boy's sudden flight and then backed off, allowing them into the cave they'd been fighting to reach for days.

Just before they'd begun their search of the cave systems, the scouts sent out to look for the runaway by both factions had returned brining news of a great fire a few valley's over and evidence of a dragon heading toward the peak from the other side of the mountains. Both Thrall and Jaina had gone cold when they held up the Black feather that had been found along the Dragon's path.

So still pondering the connection between the boy he hadn't tried to get close too and the Prophet, he'd lead the expedition into the cave himself, the humans going by another route.

For the most part, their road was empty, a few of their people whom had been taken by the humans during their initial confusion where found in small lit areas off some of the main caverns. Their Tauren counterparts, who had caught up with them after they'd encountered the human's had branched off from their party hours ago when the tunnel they'd been following had split. Of course, the Tauren hadn't been all that impressed with their handling of the situation. Among their number had been the boy's companions. The Druid and the Warrior, whom had seen fit to watch over him when the Trolls hadn't, had loudly voiced their displeasure.

Thrall didn't like the thought of the new split in his faction being formed by the presence of the dragon child. Still, he forged on ahead, leading his people through the maze toward the place where he might find the Prophet. Hours of wondering seemed to bear no fruit in regards to the search, until finally they noticed a light across the other side of a gaping chasm. Elated by the discovery as they where they found themselves stuck for a way across the gap, until Cairne finally joined them once more, bringing with him a solution in the form of a bridge.

A transparent platform, anchored by crystals shimmered into being and with a yelled command the orcs, trolls and Tauren crossed only to come up short at the sight awaiting them.

On the other side of the room, coming from a cave in another direction was the Lady Jaina and her entourage, and standing almost tauntingly in the space between them were the familiar forms of the Prophet and...

"YOU!" The shout slipped out before the Orc leader could catch himself and the Teenager nearly jumped out of his dragon skin.

"HARRY!" Came the elated shout a split second later as Jaina barrelled through her people to lunge at the boy, gathering him into a hug. He bore the attention good-naturedly and even hugged her back before the wryly grinning Prophet commanded everyone's attention.

"Now we are all here we can finally discuss our plans for the coming battle."

The various faction leaders all looked at him like he was crazy.

"Battle?" Thrall glowered and the Prophet gave him a measuring look.

"Yes. A battle. What lies ahead is a fight none can ignore. As the Leader of the Horde and the leader of the survivors of Lorderon-"

"Survivors? What are you talking about old man?" Thrall broke into the speech, giving Harry a suspicious look at the news. Medivh looked on stonily.

"The Invasion of the Burning Legion has begun." He intoned darkly. "Lorderon is already lost and the demons make their way here to overrun Kalimdor as well. Only by working together, will our chances of survival increase. Only then might we drag the world back from the flames."

Jaina seemed to be the first to realise what he was getting at and she bristled slightly, obviously not having forgiven the Orcs for their earlier... Misunderstanding.

"You can be serious! You expect me to-" Medivh silenced her with a look. "Your destinies are intertwined. Humans and Orcs much work together. As such, Grom Hellscream, one already under the Demon's influence, must be saved." Thrall, in spite of his lingering resentment toward the humans felt his stomach drop at the sudden news.

"Hellscream?" The name slipped out before he could stop himself and the prophet and the teen beside him looked vaguely pitying.

"He and the others that were sent into Ashenvale, were tainted with the blood of Manaroth. The demon called upon the ancient pact your forefathers made and awoke their bloodlust once more. But if we are to have any chance, Grom Hellscream must be saved. His actions are to be the ones that decide our fate and for that you must work together."

"We simply have no choice."

* * *

Harry watched from beside his newest teacher as Jaina and Thrall reluctantly looked at each other, resignation slowly forming in their faces as they realised that there was nothing for it. Nothing they could say or do would change the fact that they weren't strong enough alone to take on the full force of the enemies before them. Finally, they came to a silent agreement and with a sharp nod to Thrall Jaina turned on her heel and set her sights squarely on the form of Harry who suddenly realised just how much trouble he was in for when she took a deep breath and bellowed.

"AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?"

Harry gulped and looked at Medivh for assistance only to find that the old man had pulled a Dumbledore and was looking steadfastly the other way...

So, never one to just stand still when faced with the wrath of a woman Harry did what he always did when anyone focused on him.

He ran.

Jaina yelled, and took off after him, leaving behind a crowd of confused soldiers, Orcs Tauren, Trolls and a humming Medivh.

Finally, at the back of the crowd Lau'Tiki leaned over into the personal space of a Human Soldier and spoke in a stage whisper.

"Wi'd a sister like dat mon, I'da run away too."

Akward silence followed.

* * *

A/N: Well... a long awaited chapter...

A kinda short chapter...

Mkay then...

Don't forget to review.

Cya


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